


Perfectly Imperfect

by Silivren



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Jotunheim, Jötunn Loki, Loki Pampering, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silivren/pseuds/Silivren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Laufey had seen Loki's skin turn blue on Jotunheim, and demanded his son back, what would his life have been like? And what if his brother had gone back to get him, only to realise things were a thousand times more complicated than they seemed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmunetMana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmunetMana/gifts).



> A birthday present for my sister, AmunetMana, and also written for NaNoWriMo 2012. The plot is entirely hers, I just put it into words.  
> Set in the canon timeline with a somewhat different ending...  
> All characters belong to Marvel, as with most things, but with the odd necessary sideline OC (Sidra)

The sounds of fighting could be heard all around, clashes of swords and grunts of effort as blows were struck on either side. There were muffled curses as Volstagg, about twenty yards away, nursed his cold burns. Sif and Hogun had found a small alcove high up and were attacking from above, throwing knives and shooting and the hoards of frost giants below. Thor was about four hundred yards away, making mincemeat out of the Jotuns he was facing, Mjolnir singing with the excitement of it all.

A brilliant white flash lit the sky and a column of light and energy shot down into the earth. Everyone who was nearby turned to see who had arrived after them – Heimdall had said he would not tell anyone of the party’s departure from Asgard. They could see the shape of a horse and rider, but the beast had eight legs instead of four. Fandral muttered an oath under his breath. Odin had found out, somehow, and had come to deal with the mess Thor’s foolhardiness had made. The Warriors Three and Sif stopped their attack and moved towards the Allfather; Loki was about to follow when the giant he was fighting decided there was no longer another threat and whirled his club around to make contact with the Liesmith’s ribcage. Thor was too far off to notice his father’s arrival.

Odin was shouting at the warriors, something to do with irresponsibility, and _where_ was his son so he could finally knock some sense into him. Loki crumpled under the impact, but picked himself back up and flicked a knife at his assailant. The Jotun dodged, spinning around and grabbing Loki’s wrist just as he sunk a larger blade into the exposed stomach. Thick blood spluttered from the wound and the Asgardian’s face lit up into a grin, but it quickly faded as he looked at his arm, which was still trapped by the giant’s hand. 

Laufey was making his way towards Odin, all the other frost giants that could walk closely following him. Apart from in the distance where Thor was battling on, oblivious to everything else, the fighting had stopped and everything had fallen silent. Loki couldn’t help a small yelp escape his throat as he examined his hand, which was rapidly turning blue.

The Jotun King was glaring menacingly at Odin, his breathing laboured. Both their heads shot round when they heard the noise, to watch Loki wrenching the now dead giant’s hand off of his wrist and stumbling back. They could see him put his arms next to each other, and in the light it was easy to see the colour difference between them.

Everything threatening left Laufey’s stance, and he turned again to Odin.

“Allfather. I demand council with you. You will bring one warrior of your choice and I will bring one of mine, for protection. I have no wish for battle, but I do not trust you and you do not trust me. Once you have chosen, you will speak with me in this hall.” He gestured to a nearby house with his hand, then grunted to the giant next to him. They walked towards Loki, the slightly smaller giant putting him in a double arm lock and marching him into the house. The sorcerer tried to summon some magic as a defence, relaxing slightly when he felt familiar heat spread along his fingertips, but a cold hand tightened its grip on his wrist, threatening to crack it – an obvious warning that attacking would be useless.

Odin looked around the battlefield. He could see no sign of his eldest son. Fandral was helping Volstagg with is burns; Sif and Hogun were also looking about for Thor.

“Thor?” Odin roared. “Where are you?” There was no response. “Hogun, where is he?”

“I do not know, Allfather. He went further down to fight the other Jotuns that were supposed to be an ambush. I do not think he saw you arrive. I could go and look for him if you want.”

“Laufey will get impatient if I keep him waiting any longer. Yes Hogun, go and look for him, tell him what has happened. Sif, you will come with me.” The warrior jogged off down the hill to look for his friend while Sif refilled her quiver with the arrows strewn over the ground. She smiled to herself – she knew it was a great honour that Odin had chosen her to accompany him in such a thing as this, and she should not waste the moment to prove herself as one of his finest warriors.

The Asgardian King and his companion made their way back towards the house, skirting the body of the giant Loki had recently killed. It was relatively small, by Jotun standards, and inside were few furnishings – a table, four chairs and a cupboard. Two of the chairs were occupied: one by Laufey, the other by a rather disgruntled looking Loki. Between them stood Laufey’s choice of warrior, the corners of his lips turned up into a cold smile. Odin sat down, but Sif stayed standing behind him to match the threat of Laufey’s companion.

“What is this about, Laufey?” The question was guarded; Odin was in a dangerous position, but one where he knew he could come out on top, if he was careful.

Instead of answering, Laufey lifted up Loki’s wrist, which was now entirely blue, along with the rest of his arm and hand. Sif and Loki watched in horror as, upon contact with the Jotun King’s skin, the blue patch began to spread. The Liesmith stretched his neck as coolness seeped up it. He shook the hand off him and tried to rub some warmth back into his chilled skin with his normal hand. It was unsuccessful – where he was blue was staying blue, and the point where the two skin colours met was remaining icy regardless of his chafing.

Odin’s face was unreadable. Sif spluttered, questions flooding into her mind, but was signalled to silence with a hand gesture. He looked down at his hands, as if deep in thought, except there was nothing worth thinking about.

“You know something of this.” The Allfather raised his head to meet Laufey’s gaze. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. The air tingled with electricity, the tension between the two kings unmissable.

“You know about this, Father? What is going on?” A hand was clamped over Loki’s mouth. He flinched away, disgusted when he felt a chill over his skin again as his lips and chin started to turn blue.

“He is one of ours.”

“No,” came Odin’s reply through clenched teeth. Neither Loki nor Sif had seen him quite this angry before.

“You cannot deny it, Allfather. You cannot deny that his skin returns to its natural colour when I or another of my kind touch it; you cannot deny he does not feel the cold like he should.” The words were almost shouted; Laufey was clearly trying to restrain himself.

“Loki is of Asgard. He was raised there, he has family there, and friends, and if that doesn’t make somewhere your home then I would like to know what does.”

“But he is still one of us. When did you take him, Allfather? Did you come here, in the dead of night, and kidnap a child, or did you use your sorcery to create him?” Both kings were deadly serious, but that didn’t stop Laufey’s companion from grinning even wider, trying not to laugh. Both Loki and Sif were still staring at one, then the other king, incredulous. As much as she disliked him, and that was for reasons related to Thor only, Sif found it impossible to believe that Loki could be anything but Asgardian, and anything but Thor’s brother.

“I found him. In the battlefield, in the last war between our people. He could have died at any moment in the bloodshed. I took him out of pity. A battlefield is no place for a baby.” There was something akin to sorrow in Odin’s voice, as if the memory pained him somehow.

Laufey was losing all control – he was close to roaring at Odin – but the Allfather just sat there, in a state of near-calm, listening. “And you just took him? With no regard to whether or not his mother would miss him, would think him dead and then shortly after have her own life ended out of grief and madness? And then his father to find her there, his son gone and his lover on the floor with not a breath left in her body?”

“I do not think we should be discussing this with Loki in the room.”

“Right. Out, all of you. Helblindi, take Loki out and keep him restrained. Odin, your warrior must leave too.” Laufey waved his hand at his companion who rapidly escorted Loki out of the room.

“Sif, you must leave too. Fair is fair. Keep an eye on what he does with Loki, and if Hogun has found Thor, explain to him what else is happening.” The lady warrior left the building, closely following Helblindi and his captive to where Odin had originally arrived in the realm.

Once they had left, Laufey resumed his arguing, shouting uncontrollably at the Allfather, who had now begun to fight back. From outside it was difficult to make out the words, so the three that had been sent away just listened to the dull roar of the raised voices. Fandral had made his way over to them to ask what was going on, but on hearing the noise he grimaced and went back to Volstagg. Hogun hadn’t come back yet, but Sif presumed he’d found Thor by now and was in the midst of explaining. She knew Odin had sent him because he could actually make Thor listen in a crisis; if it had been her on the job, Thor would have heard the words ‘Odin’, ‘Laufey’ and ‘Loki captive’ and immediately stormed his way back into the house, causing disaster all around.

The argument had changed now from how Loki had come to Asgard to his parentage. Laufey seemed suspiciously knowledgeable about what his parents had gone through after Loki was taken, but Odin was insisting that he and Frigga were the Liesmith’s mother and father – they had raised him, cared for him, and made him their own.

Loki was fidgeting in Helblindi’s grip, so the huge man whacked him with a large blue fist and he flopped forward in a daze. Sif sprung up to help him, but backed off when she saw the dark look in the Jotun’s eyes. The argument had been going on for about half an hour by then, and still Hogun hadn’t returned. The noise had faded into the background and Sif watched absently as the surviving frost giants worked to carry away the dead and injured. The giant Loki had stabbed was picked up by a small female Jotun, who slung his arm over her shoulders and dragged him away. She was only a little taller than Sif herself, which struck the warrior as curious, because usually Jotuns were about five heads taller than Asgardians.

It suddenly got quiet. Loki had come to again, and jumped at the silence, which seemed deafening. A few moments later, Laufey and Odin emerged looking grim. There was something close to tiredness in the Allfather’s eye, and the frost giant’s fists clenched.

“We have come to an agreement,” Laufey’s voice rang out clear in the dead air. “A deal which will result in peace for both our realms, and all previous feuds will be forgotten.” He paused. Voices could be heard coming towards them. Fandral and Volstagg appeared and stood by Sif in silence, sensing the importance of the moment. Another pair of voices were also coming their way, but Laufey continued.

“A sacrifice must be made by both realms. Asgard will surrender one of Odin’s sons to us, and Jotunheim will allow the rest of Odin’s company to leave in peace, the great insult of their attack on us this day forgotten.” He looked around at the Asgardians. The approaching conversation had shaped itself into Hogun and Thor, the latter of whom sounded furious.

“The Bifrost will be opened shortly, and Odin’s company will return to Asgard. However...”

Thor could hear Laufey’s voice clearly now, and as he stormed his way over the bank he could see the enormous giant standing beside his father.

“...Loki will be remaining here, as a boon for peace.”

There was a sound like thunder, and a white column blasted down from the sky again, opening the Bifrost. Thor started to run, Hogun following behind him, towards his brother, who was staring in complete horror at his father. Odin ushered Sif, Fandral and Volstagg into the pillar of light, then mounted Sleipnir. Loki was struggling against Helblindi’s grip in vain, shouting at Odin, desperately trying to free himself and escape into the Bifrost.

“I’m sorry, Loki,” he muttered, kicking Sleipnir into a walk and moving to direct his son and Hogun into the light. Thor was charging forward, rushing past the portal and towards his brother who was still struggling, but less so now. Hogun tried to stop him unsuccessfully, but he did manage to knock him back in the direction of the Bifrost and Odin. The Allfather blocked his way with his horse, forcing him back, back away from Loki who was desperately calling out to his brother, the only person now who would listen to him.

Hogun hit the light first, and was gone in moments. Thor was trapped, and still being steered backwards, all the while crying out to Odin, to Loki, that he would go instead, that he wanted to stay to protect his kingdom.

He was finally shoved into the column, Odin following immediately on Sleipnir, and they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Helblindi released his captive once the Bifrost had closed. Loki felt like he would collapse, but he stayed standing, shaking off anyone who tried to help him. He felt small, and alone, in this world of unfamiliar faces and shapes, all of which were at least twice his size. He was surrounded by Jotuns and escorted to the palace. It took only half an hour to walk the mile and a bit needed to reach the huge building, but it felt like forever.

Everything was whirling around him; he felt completely out of control of his limbs as he walked on and on, several of the giants talking idly at him as they travelled about this monument or that battlefield.

By the time they arrived he was exhausted, and not from the exertion, but from the emotional overload that had been the last few hours. He’d never really asked why he seemed completely different from any of the other members of his family – why he had dark hair when the rest were fair, why his eyes were green instead of blue, why he liked to read when they liked to spar. But in the course of that afternoon, he’d not only had his parentage questioned, but also his race. His skin was starting to itch at the join between the blue parts and the normal areas; absentmindedly he scratched his neck and then looked at his hand. It was completely blue, but not a nice blue, not like the sky just after sunrise, or of a clear pool of water. It was more like the colour of Odin’s eyes when he was angry and they frosted over, more terrifying than anything. There were faint raised lines, like scars, that every Jotun had. One of the giants, a woman not much taller than himself, saw him looking.

“They’re markings. You share some of them with your parents, like the ones on your face and your back. The others are completely unique to you,” she explained softly to him. He didn’t thank her. He just shoved his hand inside his cloak and turned forward again.

The other Jotuns dispersed, satisfied that the new arrival would no longer do a runner. Laufey turned to face Loki, kneeling down to put a huge hand on his shoulder. Loki tried to shake him off, but Laufey just tightened his grip.

“Welcome to my palace, Loki. You will find it very comfortable here, I think. I have told the cooks to prepare a feast for your arrival – it is a great honour to have you among us again at last.”

“I don’t really see why it is such an honour, but if you treat all your captives as princes then perhaps my people underestimated you,” Loki replied. The distaste and sarcasm was clear in his tone, but Laufey ignored it. Instead he laughed.

“Perhaps they did. But it is not every captive we treat so well; only princes.”

“And what, your _majesty_ , do you mean by that?”

“I heard Angrboda explaining to you about the markings on your skin. If I told you the ones on your face come from you father, and on your back your mother, then maybe you would understand.” He gestured to one of the giants setting tables out in the huge hall. “Bring me a mirror of some sort.” The servant hastily bowed and left the room.

While they were waiting, Loki took the time to look around. The room was at least the size of Gladsheim, but darker and colder. The ceiling seemed impossibly high, the walls carved out of some dull blue-grey stone. In line with the enormous doors at the far end was a throne made of the same stone as the rest of the room. It was crudely carved and icicles hung from the arms and seat. Around its feet was more ice, this time in the form of splintered crystals. It didn’t have the magnificence of the High Seat, but it was certainly imposing.

Large wooden tables which stretched the length of the hall had now filled the room and were being loaded with dishes and plates for the coming feast. The place was obviously going to be packed, and Loki wouldn’t have been surprised if the entire realm was coming to celebrate his arrival. The giant Laufey had called Angrboda was in the far corner cleaning the seats of the large wooden chairs. She wasn’t the only female Jotun in the room, but she was the only other being who seemed to be of the same stature as Loki, which intrigued him.

The servant returned with a mirror, handing it to Loki. He examined his face in it, gently touching the jagged lines that crossed his temples. There were some squarer ones across his cheeks and two semicircles on his forehead. He glanced up at Laufey, then back at himself again, eyes widening. The word ‘No’ formed on his lips, but any sound died before it could escape. He could feel treacherous tears in the back of his throat but instead he swallowed them down and looked up.

“I’m...” He studied Laufey’s markings again, but it was unmistakable. “I am your son.”

“Now do you understand why I wanted you to stay here; why it is a good thing, worthy of celebration, to have you with us again?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but it had all become clear. He handed the mirror back to the waiting servant and shut his eyes. Now was not the time to appear weak. He was in a new land, where he was very vulnerable, with a head full of questions and no intention of asking them. He looked back at Laufey’s throne and noticed the smaller ones around it – one of similar grandeur, if that was what it could be called, slightly to the left and smaller. On either side of those were another two made of metal. An ice crystal was set in the back of each like a jewel. In the corner of the room behind the thrones on the left was another chair shoved away. It was the same size as the metal ones, but made of stone again, and obviously disused. On top of the seat was a sheet, carelessly cast over it.

“And that’s my throne, isn’t it?” Loki asked, his voice hollow, clenching his right hand to get some control over his emotions.

“Yes. The one next to mine belongs to my wife, and the other two to your brothers. You’ve already met Helblindi, and his is nearest mine. The other belongs to Býleistr.”

Loki stared at his father. “He was my _brother?_ ” Laufey nodded and turned to look at what some of the servants were putting on his table. He went over to his seat to speak with the people arranging it, and in his absence Loki thought back to compare his experience of Helblindi with his relationship with Thor, his ‘brother’ on Asgard.

Helblindi had seemed to dislike him from when they had first come into contact with each other, and the feeling was mutual. He hadn’t hesitated to hit Loki around the head when he was fidgeting, and had been pretty brutal even when he was still. Loki could feel bruises forming on his wrists and arms where he’d been restrained for the duration of the meetings. And then there was Thor, who still puzzled him. They’d grown up together, knew each other inside out, and yet while sometimes Thor seemed like he would be the perfect future king, other times he was so _stupid_ it almost embarrassed Loki to be so close to him.

And of course, there were the times where he was just a big brother, looking out for him. Until their father decided to dump him here on Jotunheim so he could find out his whole life was a lie and he would never see Asgard again, and he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye because he was too busy screaming at Thor to help him.

“Loki? The feast will be starting in a few minutes, so would you like to take your seat? It is here, next to mine.” Loki winced when he realised he was going to be the centre of attention for the duration of the evening.

“Laufey...” The huge head moved to look at him. “...Father. I am truly grateful, for all of this honour, but I don’t think I want to attend a feast tonight. I am tired, and it has been quite difficult to take in all that I have learnt today,” He sighed in an attempt to emphasise his exhaustion, and watched Laufey’s face fall. “Could someone show me to my room, and perhaps in the morning I will be ready to eat with you.”

Laufey drew a long breath, then nodded. “I understand. Angrboda will take you to your chambers.”

He beckoned her over and told her where to take Loki, then went to speak to some of the cooks regarding his son’s not eating with them. Angrboda led him down several corridors, all made of the same dull stone as the hall. They passed countless doors, each of which contained a small placard with a name on it – presumably the servants’ rooms. The climbed a flight of stairs and turned into a walkway that was almost like a balcony. It was roofed, but you could lean over the side in between square pillars and look out at the icy wastelands below. There were sconces burning on the walls, and the number of doors had greatly decreased. She took him to a dark mahogany door with no name. The metal sign had been turned over – something Loki put into the back of his mind to explore later.

Inside the room was a desk, covered in a blue and gold cloth. Set out along the top were seven bottles of ink and three quills, some paper placed on the middle. Further towards the left was a large wardrobe; on the right was the largest bed he’d ever seen.  It was at least four feet high, and combined with mattress and blankets the top came up to his armpits. To its right was a small bedside table with an open hole on the top and two drawers below. There were no other furnishings – just the bare essentials; the room had obviously never been used. Loki scanned around for a trunk or stool of some sort – there was no way he would be climbing into that bed like it was an obstacle course each day. Seeing nothing, he moved to look at the bedside table. It was as high as the bed, but narrow, and if turned on its side it would suffice.

Angrboda left the room to return to her work, leaving Loki alone to explore. He tried to turn the huge cabinet over, but it was too heavy. He considered asking a servant to do it – he’d noticed a pull-cord on the other side of the bed presumably used to summon assistance – but decided he might as well ask for a trunk. He walked over and gave the slender rope a tug. A few minutes later two Jotuns arrived in his room, one male, one female.

“I would like a trunk, or stool, of sorts, to help me get into bed. Could you bring me one?” he asked. The larger one, the man, shuffled off to find something for Loki; the woman stayed.

“Are you not able to climb into bed on your own then?” she asked, almost sarcastically.

“This bed must be at least four and a half feet high. Do I look like I can climb into it unassisted? Trust me, if I could, I would be in it now and you would not be here,” he retorted.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” she commented, sitting down on the corner of the bed and shooting him a filthy look. The other giant returned with a medium sized leather trunk studded with silver squares and a large gold lock.

Loki took that as a challenge. He placed both hands, palms down, flat against the wooden frame of the bed and jumped up, elbows locking. His legs were dangling loose, and he scraped his toes against the smooth side, trying to get a grip. He lifted his right leg up until it rested next to his hand and pushed up. His knee gave way slightly and he stumbled, much to the amusement of the two giants and Angrboda, who was now standing in the doorway. With a last shove Loki lifted himself onto the bed and lay there for a moment, catching his breath. When he was ready, he sat up and glared at the other three in the room.

Angrboda laughed in the back of her throat: “Well, that was adorable enough I don’t think we _should_ let him have that trunk. Take it back.” The Jotun bearing the case abruptly left, taking the box with him, much to Loki’s irritation. He was starting to dislike Angrboda.

“And how do you get into bed then, if I may ask?” he said scathingly. “You are not much taller than me.”

“Oh, I have a special bed built for me that’s an appropriate size.”

“Well then, maybe I shall speak with my father, so I can have a more _appropriately sized_ bed too,” he seethed.

“Good luck with that. I think your father will have the same view as me though, it is far more entertaining to watch you clamber up like that.” She curtsied with a wicked grin on her lips and left the room with the other woman.

Loki hopped down to undress ready for sleeping. He left his clothes on the floor, sudden tiredness washing over him. Once he was done, he put his hands back on the bed and tried to repeat his technique of climbing up. He heard a snicker come through the slightly open window – the other servant had snuck a glance through it to watch him struggle again. It was distracting enough that his foot slipped and he slid back down in a heap.

That night, Loki slept on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki woke up the following morning surrounded by pillows and fluffy blankets. Groggily he opened his eyes to see he was in his bed. He tried to push himself but it was hard to move – he was close to drowning in covers. Someone had obviously found him on the floor and put him into his bed, but had overdone things on the ‘tucking in’ front. He looked over to the wardrobe and jumped to see five very large, very menacing looking Jotuns standing around his bed. He recognised the man and the woman from the previous evening, but there were two more female giants and another man as well.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t summon any of you, get out!”

The giants didn’t respond. Instead, the unfamiliar man pushed him back down on the bed as two of the women came closer. One of them gently pushed a strand of hair away from Loki’s cheek and he flinched in disgust. The hand on his shoulder just pushed firmer, stopping him from moving at all. The giantess carefully took his left ear in her fingers and rubbed the smooth skin. The Liesmith tried to pull away but he couldn’t move under the force of the other Jotun’s hand.

“One,” she called to her partner, who proceeded to take a hollow needle and a small object out of a box in her hand. His ear was bent slightly so she could see what she was doing with more ease. A sharp pain shot through it and he leapt out of her reach. Yelping and uttering oaths he wriggled out of the Jotun man’s grip and jumped off the bed, rushing to the mirror he could see in the bathing room adjacent.

High up in his ear was a small round gold stud. A thin trickle of blood ran down from the puncture; he wiped it away and swore under his breath.

“ _What_ did you do that for?” he demanded, furious. His ear was throbbing now and had turned a rather unattractive shade of red.

“King Laufey requested that seeing as you are one of us you should look the part. We are here to carry out that request. The first thing you may have noticed about Jotun royalty is the abundance of jewellery, particularly in the ears,” the one who had pierced him explained.

“Well, Laufey can think what he likes, but I will not have you putting more holes in me without my permission first. You will go now,” he dismissed them, waving his hand towards the doorway and attempting to close the bathing room door.

The giant that had restrained him lumbered towards Loki and picked him up by the waist, carrying him across the room and hurling him back onto the bed. This time, both the male giants held him down, ignoring his outraged protests. He writhed and clawed at them like an angry cat, but that only resulted in a hand being clamped over his mouth and his arms being pinned behind him again. Once they’d got him still, the giantess went back to his ear and adjusted the stud slightly until Loki felt a click. He stared daggers at her as she prepared the needle for the next piercing, but stopped when he felt what seemed like ice water slide down the back of his neck.

During the night, the blue areas of his skin had faded a little. He wiggled an arm free to reach for the troublesome drip, hand stilling when it found nothing there. The cold spread around his neck and shoulders, onto his cheek and lips. His brows furrowed in confusion at the sensation – _what is happening to me now?_ At last it reached a place he could see, and he winced to see his skin turning blue again. The markings stood out along his left arm, dark and distinct, like welts. He felt the cold spread along his chest and down his legs, covering the entirety of his body in a chilling wave of magic. After a minute it stopped, all of his skin a deep shade of blue this time.

“What...what have you done to me?” His voice sounded hollow, and there was a dull ringing in his ears. He suddenly felt too hot in all the blankets and throws, kicking them off him and twisting around as best he could whilst still being held in place by the two giants.

“We’ve just returned your natural skin colour to you. It’s a way of removing the spell Odin put on you when he found you. You’ll feel much better now you’re back to how you’re supposed to look,” answered the third female Jotun, who hadn’t spoken before.

“I felt fine as I was,” Loki muttered under his breath. The hand had been removed from his mouth as soon as the earring had clicked, but it returned to hold his head steady again as his right ear became the focus of attention.

The second stab hurt more, because he knew what to expect now. He twisted again, but with less effort, realising it was pointless but refusing to give in just yet. After the next three though, he just sat there with a face like thunder and endured the rest. Quarter of an hour later he sported twelve holes in his now blue and pointed ears: another round stud in his right ear, a pointed one below that. There were two small plain rings and one larger twisted one, followed by a huge dangly earring that nearly brushed his shoulder. On the other side beneath the stud that had released Odin’s spell was an enormous ear cuff which, for some reason Loki couldn’t fathom other than the Jotuns wanted to see him suffer, required three holes. Below that were two more twisted rings.

He rubbed his ears gingerly, aware that the slightest nudge would set off the stinging again. The giantesses that had done the piercing left the room once they were finished, leaving Loki with the third woman and the two men. He was released for long enough to go and examine the product of the previous torture, which he couldn’t look at for long before his mind made the pain even worse, before he was taken back to the bed and this time faced by the third woman.

“I apologise. You must have a rather negative impression of Jotunheim at the moment. We are only doing what your father wishes, and once that has been sorted you will be treated like a proper prince. I can only say that the attitudes to your height won’t change, but that is because of your parentage and not because we consider those of your... _stature_...second class in any way.” She started to unload a black woven case onto the edge of the bed. Inside were a variety of bottles and a bundle of small rags in varying colours. She seemed the only reasonable person he’d met, but judging by the looks of the phials he could see, Loki decided he wouldn’t trust her quite yet.

“Oh, my parentage? Could you explain?” He tried to stall her, without success – she continued with her work, nodding to one of the men to take Loki into the bathing room.

“Yes, I could explain, or I could do my job, and make you presentable for your father this afternoon. He will explain it in due time, I expect. Hold your head still now, and don’t squirm – this will only take a few moments.” She walked over to kneel behind his head and he heard the pop of a bottle being unstoppered. She rubbed her hands in the bitter smelling concoction inside and began to smooth it thorough his hair. It tingled his scalp and burned the back of his throat, but he decided that as she was being civil to him, he would make an effort to do what she asked.

Loki felt his hair get heavier, as if it was wet, and brought a hand up to feel the top of his head, only to have it smacked away. The tugging continued for a while, then stopped.

“All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it now?” She smiled at him, guiding him to the mirror to show him her work.

Loki’s jaw dropped. He was looking at himself as if he’d never seen his reflection before. Which sort of he hadn’t. Instead of his usual sleeked back collar-brushing hair, he found himself peering through a mop of waist length black tresses. He tried to push them out of his face, but they only flopped back again into his eyes.

“...What have you _done_ to me?” he whispered, almost to himself. He settled for roughly parting his hair down the middle and tucking it behind his ears, turning to glare at the woman. He knew she wasn’t trustworthy.

“I’ve made your hair longer, what does it look like?” she snapped. “Now, just give me a few minutes and I’ll get it out your face. Come back through,” she gestured to Loki’s captor again to take him to his room again, packing the empty bottle away inside her bag.

Once he had been dumped on the bed again, she turned his back to her and put a comb on his hairline, scraping it through his tangled locks. She did this several times, and once satisfied she took a handful of some kind of wax and brushed it in to hold the hair in place. After that she began to knot in the rags. The pulling was uncomfortable, and he made this known with several grunts and muttered curses, but she ignored him. Once all the rags had been put in place, she took another bottle out her bag, this one containing a thin, sweet smelling oil. The Jotun put a bucket under his head and doused his hair in the liquid, being careful not to drip any on the bedclothes. She then repeated the process with water, finally drying him off with a fluffy towel.

Then began the untying, which was even more uncomfortable than when the rags had been put in. Loki pulled his head away when it got too much, only to have it forced back by the giant who still hadn’t let him out of the arm lock. Eventually the job was done, and the stylist turned him to face her. She ran a hand through his new curls to separate them, placing one in front of each shoulder.

“There. Now I’ll leave you in peace for a bit. The others will be back soon to sort out your clothes, but for now, enjoy the break.” She tidied up her things and left, the other two following behind. As soon as he was alone, Loki picked up the piece of hair resting on his left shoulder. In his hand sat a perfectly formed black ringlet. He poked it with a slim blue finger – it felt soft, and smelt sweet, like the oil used to hold it in place.

Loki rushed back to the bathroom to see the rest. His hair no longer reached his waist; instead it brushed just below his shoulder blades in a big curl at the back. The hair on the right was the same as everywhere else – straight until it reached the top of his shoulders, where it looped around in a loose corkscrew and flicked out at the tip. He pulled down on the end, relieved when it straightened again, and let go only to have it bounce back into place.

There was a knock at the door: Loki ignored it, his attention still focused on his hair. It was horrific, and humiliating. He hit his fist against the wall, an angry lump forming in his throat, and turned to see who’d arrived this time. It was the two women who’d sorted out his jewellery, and this time they were carrying a pile of fabric. He backed away against the wall, not even daring to think what was going to happen to him now, when one of them came and dragged him out.

The first one, the one who’d taunted him about his height the night before, began to lift his nightshirt off. He shoved her back with what little force he could muster, tripping over and sprawling on the floor.

“We are not going to hurt you,” she said, walking towards him. “We are only going to dress you as your father wishes.”

“Well, I assure you, I will dress how _I_ wish, not how my father wants me to. If any of the other modifications to my appearance he wanted me to have are something to go by, I’d rather go around naked,” he spat, shuffling away from her until he was pressed against the wall.

She didn’t reply, instead picking him up and plopping him down on the bed, moving to remove his garments again. He swatted her hand away: “I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, thank you. And it might help if you actually _talked_ whilst doing your work, instead of just attacking me – you might find I’m a bit more co-operative that way. Now, if you would be so kind as to give me my clothes I will sort myself out in the bathing room.” He held a hand out, expecting to receive the entire pile, but received only a belt and a loincloth.

“Is this all I’m wearing?” he asked, distaste written all over his face.

“No, but as you are insisting you dress yourself, we have given you enough to keep your dignity, and once you have put that on we will sort out your other robes.” It was a fight Loki knew he would lose, so he sighed and went into the adjacent room. Once he’d clipped the belt in place he came back out to face them. He felt decidedly uncomfortable in so little clothing, and stood there shaking – not out of cold though, instead out of anticipation and embarrassment of what he was going to be wearing in a few minutes time.

The belt was made of gold, with a large triangular buckle at the front. It was heavy on his hips, and the edges dug into his skin uncomfortably. Five small rings stuck out from the bottom, to which the second woman attached chains, alternating in colour from blue and gold, clipping them onto the back. Once she was satisfied, she lifted the belt up around his waist and the first servant brought over a piece of white linen. This she tied at his hip with a series of small discreet knots, then lowered the belt over. It was long at the front and back, dangling down to just below his knees at the front, and half way down his thighs at the back. The chains sat over the rounder part that started just behind his hip joints and carried on behind his back. It wasn’t his style of clothing, but it covered everything and, admittedly, with a certain degree of style.

The only other thing he was dressed in was a cloak made of pale yellow cloth. It was infinitely soft, and warm, and he immediately became attached to it. The shoulders were white and fluffy, made of something like a cross between fur and feathers that he could snuggle into. It also had a hood with the same furry lining so it was invisible from the outside.

The finishing touch was a heavy gold crown. The two who were dressing him tried to balance it on his head, but it was just too big, and slipped down onto his shoulders. There was a dull clink as it hit the fine gold chains holding his cloak about him. Loki looked up at them, one eyebrow raised.

“It was supposed to be your crown, seeing as you are a prince, but it’s a little on the big side...” the first one frowned. “I’ll have to speak with the king about that. For now, you’ll just have to wear it like that...” The second woman snorted, gathering up the spare clothes and exiting the room.

“You’re serious,” Loki said, but he knew it was pointless.

“Unfortunately for you, yes. I’ll be taking you to your father now, so follow me,” she left the room, Loki following closely behind.

They didn’t follow the same route as Angrboda had in taking him to his chambers, instead turning left out the door and following the corridor down, past what her presumed to be his brothers’ rooms and an enormous closet. A wide passageway branched off the left: down it Loki saw a huge gold door studded with jewels and ice crystals. That, he presumed, must be his father’s room.

Further down the corridor, the palace became less like a maze of doors and corridors, and more like an open plan workplace. There was a small garden in the middle, with the north-facing end appearing to be some sort of library, shelves stacked high with books, some chained, some not. To the west was a continuation of the original hallway; to the east was a large open room with a polished marble floor, used for functions and minor ceremonies. The south end led to an archway carved with runes and symbols of magic long passed, through which a larger open space could  be seen.

“Loki.”

Laufey was standing in the north-west corner of the garden, admiring a cluster of unnaturally tall snowdrop-like flowers. He walked over towards his son and gestured that they sit down on one of the wrought benches surrounding the veranda. Loki looked either way before putting his hands flat on the edge of the seat and hopping up, aware there could be several servants around prepared to embarrass him further because of his height.

“Have you eaten at all today?” his father asked, linking his fingers together on his lap.

“No,” Loki replied. “I have only just left my room after my...makeover.”

Laufey said nothing, not wishing to press the issue, which he realised was a sensitive one. Instead he turned his son’s attention towards the archway.

“That is one of the gates out of the palace. It is kept locked after dark, but any members of the house can come and go as they wish. I presume you have seen the library – it extends quite a way, but a lot of our books are outdated. It has been hard to gather more information about things such as the other realms with Asgard’s constant watch on us.”

Loki nodded absently, attention wandering towards the gate. “Those runes,” he said, pointing to the top of the archway. “They are symbols of magic. Why are they there?”

“Long ago that gate did not exist; instead there was a spell put on the arch that allowed only those with the express permission of the king to pass through it. That king died long ago, as did the sorcerer who guarded the gateway. There has not been another with such magic here for centuries.” Laufey shook his head, then turned to look at the small man sitting beside him. “You can read them?” he asked.

“Yes,” Loki replied. “I have magic, and have been trained well on Asgard.”

“How curious. Perhaps your brothers would think better of you, if they knew,” Laufey mused. Loki stiffened – he knew Thor admired his skill with magic, even if he did not always show it – then realised the huge man was not referring to his Asgardian family, but Helblindi and Býleistr.

“Is magic unusual on Jotunheim then?” he asked.

“Strong magic is, yes. A few of the women have magic in their maternal bloodlines – enough to do simple charms and make potions, such as the one that grew your hair. Sometimes it can just mean forming ice with your hands or defending yourself is easier, if there was magic in your family. But now people with profound abilities are few and far between, and where we can we have them work in the palace as healers or advisors.”

“So, it must be unusual for someone to have my skills then,” Loki commented, taking note that he could use his power to his advantage here.

“As I am unaware of the extent of your strength, I could not say. But if what you say is true, then yes, very unusual. It is a blessing to have you as a son.” Laufey really liked to lay it on thick. It was starting to get annoying now, the way his father constantly referred to his arrival as an ‘honour’ or a ‘blessing’, but all the other Jotuns he’d met so far seemed to despise him, or at least make a mockery of his appearance.

Loki decided he was no longer in the mood to ask about the height issue. He idly pulled at a ringlet, watching with confusion at how when he pulled it, it returned to its normal straightness, but as soon as he let go it sprung back up into a curl again. He almost didn’t hear when Laufey spoke to him again, asking if he wanted to go and have a late breakfast.

“I do not feel very hungry at the moment, but I would like to explore the library, if I may,” he replied, a plan forming in his head. The king nodded and led him to one of the bookcases that had been visible from the garden. Loki could only see the first two shelves, but he deduced that what he was looking at was the range of literature Jotunheim possessed on magic. He could only see books concerning the history of magic though, not spell books.

“Is there anything higher up with spells in?” He strained his neck up, stepping back to try and get a better look, only to have a large hand pick him up around his waist and sit him on the third shelf of the opposite bookcase. Now he was level with Laufey’s head and could see similar books to the ones in Asgard that the Light Elves had given to Odin as a gift in order to help him improve his command of magic. “That one will do, the green one, with the silver lettering.” Laufey pulled it off the shelf, carrying it to a table and returning to help his son down. Loki wondered how the Jotuns had come to possess such an unusual book, one he thought there was only one copy of.

He had to stand on a stool to reach the book, but thankfully it was his size and not one of the enormous giant-sized tomes he’d seen on the lower shelves. The aged paper had turned yellow with time, something Loki realised had never happened to any of the books on Asgard, as they were protected with preservation charms. The spell was to make all the skin on the subject’s body turn a peculiar shade of grey – something that struck Loki as rather useless.

“Do you mind if I demonstrate this on you?” the sorcerer asked his father, aware the King of Jotunheim may not appreciate being charmed, even if it was by his son proving his talents.

“Not at all, just as long as it will not do anything long-term,” Laufey replied, leaning over the book in curiosity. He watched intently as Loki murmured the chant under his breath, starting when he saw the tips of his fingers turn from blue to a dull silver with undertones of red and brown. Soon his entire body was a similar colour, and he laughed.

“Wonderful! You are skilled indeed; far more than many of those we have had brought here. Just another thing that amazes me about my eldest son.” Loki raised both eyebrows – he didn’t realise he was _older_ than the other two. “...and drives me to believe Odin took you out of more than just pity...” he muttered.

A drop of blood hit the floor from the Liesmith’s hand. He hadn’t realised how tightly his fist was clenched, nails digging into the smooth flesh of his palm in anger. He’d never liked Odin; on finding out about that he’d been lied to about his heritage his entire life by the Allfather his resentment had grown, but he still would not tolerate anyone on Jotunheim speaking ill of his Asgardian family.

“Odin took me because I wasn’t wanted,” he managed to get out through clenched teeth.

“You know nothing of what you speak. We will not be having this discussion again.” With that he left, leaving Loki alone in the library and incapable of putting the book back. He slammed the tome shut and swept out, hoping he could make it to his room without getting lost. He opened the door and vaulted onto the bed, tearing the crown off from around his shoulders and hurling his belt across the room.

He flung open the wardrobe, looking for his old clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. Ripping the white fabric from his hips he tore it in half and moved to pull his cloak off too, then decided against it. He wormed his way to the head of the bed, piling pillows around him and curling up inside the soft yellow fabric. His hand found a small cushion and closed around it, sharp nails tearing at the seams and spilling the stuffing everywhere.

Once his anger was spent, he flopped down again into his nest and shook for a while, fury still coursing through his veins. An uncomfortable pressure was on his ears, and he went to take out his earrings but found he didn’t know how to. Loki rolled over onto his back and lay staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours before falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as they’d arrived back on Asgard, Odin had rushed off with Fandral and Volstagg to the healer’s room to sort his burn out. Hogun and Sif had stayed behind, waiting for Thor. When they couldn’t feel his heavy footsteps behind them on the Bifrost Bridge, Sif turned back to look. He was sitting, slumped against the side of the enormous room, face in his hands and not moving.

“Thor? Thor, are you all right?” Sif started to jog back, Hogun following, past Heimdall towards their friend. The Watchman turned to look at them, his usually distant expression softening into one of sympathy.

“Thor?” Hogun gently reminded, putting a hand on the Thunderer’s left shoulder. At the touch Thor stood up and strode past them, stopping only to mutter something to Heimdall, who responded with a subtle nod, before carrying on towards the castle.

“That’s not good,” Sif murmured, Hogun coming up beside her. The two of them set off across the bridge in pursuit.

Back in the castle Groa had been carefully healing Volstagg’s burns and the skin had begun to knit back together. Fandral also had a gash on his forearm which had all but disappeared. Odin had left to speak to Frigga, expecting Thor to arrive shortly so he could explain why the fourth member of their family unit was missing. When his eldest son had not turned up, he had begun to search the castle, only to find that as he was leaving Thor’s chambers their owner had barged past him, slamming the door with a force it’d had to withstand through a multitude of teenage years.

“Thor!” he roared at the battered doorframe. “Do not slam the door on me! I want to speak with you!”

“Well _I_ do not wish to speak with you! Maybe you should have thought about that before you ignored my pleas and sent Loki to live on Jotunheim,” came the equally loud reply.

“It is about Loki that I want to talk. Come to your mother’s room.”

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone!” he thundered. There was a crash, similar to the sound a wall would make on coming into contact with Mjolnir.

“Don’t you _dare_ answer back to me, Thor Odinson! Come out of there right now!”

Odin’s tone was not one to be refused. Sulkily the door opened, and Thor emerged, tucking Mjolnir in his belt. Odin was careful to note the large black mark on the wall from which bits of plaster were crumbling away. He would speak to Thor about that in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki woke up some time close to midnight. He was dimly aware he hadn’t eaten since before his arrival in that realm, but it wasn’t a concern. Hopping down off the bed, he went to the open wardrobe and took out a square of green and black silk. Hastily tying it around his waist in a way that he was sure would have rivalled the handiwork of the two that had dressed him that morning, he made his way to the door.

It was tempting to explore the whole castle, but he decided he’d probably get countless tours in due time, so instead he went to investigate the parts he likely wouldn’t get told about. Jumping up, he slid the plaque out of its holder and took it inside to examine it. He flicked his fingers, a small globe of green fire appearing in the palm of his hand, and held the metal object to the light. The side that had been facing outward was plain, obviously the back, but the other side had what looked like letters carved in it. They were roughly marked, filled with black paint that had chipped away where someone had scratched out the name. From what he could make out, they had originally read ‘...Laufeyson, Treasure of Jotunheim” and then a date of some sort.

The nameplate clattered to the floor. Loki looked at his hands, once of which still had the dancing ball of fire floating in it. _Treasure of Jotunheim?_ He really _had_ had a whole life planned out here, right down to the first prince’s nickname. And yet, no-one had done anything to suggest he was heir to the throne. He’d been treated like a doll, probably in ways that many would class as spoilt, but the servants had no respect for him like they would the next in line.

Loki hurriedly put the placard back in place and began to rummage through the desk. In the third drawer down he alighted on a letter opener. It was made of a silver metal, shaped like a dagger and the hilt was decorated with small blue and green gems. He brushed the blade across his thumb, testing its sharpness, then accidentally slid it down his index finger. It was surprisingly sharp, and he sucked the bleeding digit for a moment before an idea entered his mind.

He carefully clambered back into bed again, taking the knife with him, and charmed himself into sleep, hoping to waste a large portion of the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Odin had spoken to his family. Now they were all sitting in their separate rooms, grieving in their own ways. Frigga had burst into tears when Odin had explained that Loki had been left on Jotunheim as a boon for peace. Thor had refused to look at his father, his face unreadable. The Allfather had tried to explain the importance of the deal, and how it marked a new beginning for both realms – one of peace and potential alliance. After all, Loki _was_ Laufey’s son, and he would have to have returned at some point.

Two days after their return, the Warriors Three and Sif still hadn’t seen Thor come out of his room. Neither had they seen his mother, but that was not surprising. Frigga had always adored Loki, for his quietness and eagerness to listen and observe – he had a calming presence in contrast to Thor’s boisterous bragging and Odin’s kingly might. At least, he did to those he liked – Sif had never felt relaxed in his presence, but that was because of the mutual hatred they shared for each other.

It had begun in that fragile time of adolescence, when Sif had started to notice Thor in a way that was more than just friendly. She’d always admired him, had aspired to be a decent rival, even if she could never quite equal him; it had been what had started her off training to be a warrior, and had created her friendship with Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. But since she’d turned fifteen, she had started to have feelings for Thor which were a little more than plain friendship.

That had begun her and Loki’s enmity – they hadn’t really got on before, but they’d been able to tolerate each other, both able to use courtesy, for Thor’s sake. Loki was sharp though, never missed a thing, and although she tried to keep her feelings secret until she was ready to express them, Loki noticed within days. At first she thought she’d just done something to upset him, and whatever it was it would die down in a few days. Except it didn’t. Days became weeks, weeks months, until one day he brushed past her on her way to the library and he’d hissed “He doesn’t want you.”

It stung more than it should, and at first she brushed it off as a passing thing, but it continued to gnaw away at her subconsciously until she became convinced it was true. All the special glances, occasional brushes of the arm, inside jokes that she’d begun to share with Thor, that had made her feel like the most special person in his world, started to vanish. Sif felt like nothing in Thor’s eyes, like if he had liked her, Loki’s words had persuaded him otherwise, and even though all those little things were still there she could no longer see them.

She had then tried even harder to impress him, and especially when Loki wasn’t around, but it seemed hopeless. If there had ever been anything, she’d single-handedly managed to kill it by deluding herself. And if Loki’s remark had been made in innocent trickery before, it certainly had a deeper meaning now.

“This is ridiculous. It’s completely unlike Thor to behave in such a way. If he doesn’t get over himself soon he’ll be reduced to a blubbering mess in a matter of weeks!” Fandral stood up from the table where the four friends were taking lunch. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Fandral, don’t! You don’t know what’s going through his head. Tonight there is a council concerning trade with Alfheim. He will have to go to that – there is a feast following, how could he refuse? We’ll talk to him after that,” Hogun reasoned. He saw Fandral’s point, but was also concerned for Thor in a way the others couldn’t understand. He had seen the expression on the big man’s face whilst he had explained what was happening the day of the battle. He knew what Thor was going through.

The meeting was held in one of the smaller halls – it was a minimal issue, and so only required the main council members. Odin was sitting at the head of the table, Frigga beside him. To Odin’s right sat Thor, reluctant to be there despite the imminent feast. Groa the healer was on Thor’s other side, and then further round were a few more people, mostly advisors to the king. Next to Frigga was an empty seat, and then Hogun to represent the warriors of Asgard.

“Today’s council concerns trade between Asgard and Alfheim. The Elves have been requesting we start trading iron with them again, because there was a recent accident in one of their most important mines. Our iron supplies are plentiful, but if we wish to start up this deal we will be in need of more in a few months time. Any suggestions?”

One of the advisors stood up. “I suggest we refuse them. Iron is important to us, and we may have surplus now, but I don’t trust all our suppliers on Svartalfheim.”

“Why are the Elves looking to us for this? They know most of our iron is imported! Surely they would ask those who supply to us instead?” another council member said.

“The Elves trust us, and not our suppliers. They know we have the forces to get tough with our traders, but they don’t. It’s also an opportunity for profits,” Groa added.

Thor tuned out after that, wishing he could just be left alone with his thoughts. The discussion around him faded into a background buzz as he cast a look over to his mother. She’d stayed silent during the debate too, one hand gripping the arm of her seat so tightly her knuckles had turned an odd shade of white. His gaze wandered to the empty seat next to her, and he felt a pang of guilt rise up again, causing his own fists to clench.

“...We could make trade with Jotunheim...” Thor’s head shot up. Now he was interested.

“What do you mean? You know there are tensions between Asgard and Jotunheim,” Odin said.

“Well, I just thought, seeing as some kind of peace deal had been made...and you said...potential alliance? Trade could be the first steps towards that...if you follow my gist, my lord,” the speaker spluttered out, aware all the eyes in the room were on him.

There was a loud scrape as Thor stood up, slamming his hands down on the table. He turned and stormed out of the room, ignoring Odin’s angry objections. He couldn’t just sit there and listen to them refer to Loki’s capture as a _peace_ deal. Frigga swept out, following her son as fast as she could while he made his way to his bedroom.

“Thor. Thor stop, please,” she called.

He wanted to keep going, but this was his _mother_ , and he couldn’t just ignore her, not when she was the only other person who seemed to be hurting as much as he was.

“I’m sorry, Mother. But I cannot just _listen_ to them talk about him like he was a piece of dirt. Like he was just a tool to gain them some peace at last. I _can’t_.”

“Your father was only trying to do what was right–”

“My _father_ knew what was going on all along! It would not surprise me if he took Loki in originally so he could use him as some way of uniting our realms in the end.”

“Thor...” Frigga reached out a hand to him, stumbling. He caught her and picked her up, carrying him to her room. “You are not the only one who is hurting over this. I think they all are, Odin no less than anyone. But you have to understand, however raw it feels, however _angry_ you are, Loki isn’t coming back, and you need to move on.”

“I do not want to move on. I do not want to carry on without him.”

“Neither do I, Thor, but I must. I know that of everyone on Asgard, we are suffering the most because of this, but we need to accept it for what it is, and try to carry on. I am his mother, and he is my little boy still, just like you are, and it is a terrible pain to bear, for a mother to lose her child.

“So how about we make a deal? I will try to move on, and so will you, and if it gets too much, you know you can always talk to me about it. Do I have your word?”

Thor hesitated, uncertain of whether he wanted to commit to what Frigga was asking of him. Slowly, he moved over to give her a hug, brushing away the tear he could see escaping down her cheek. “You have my word.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Frigga, just to say. I actually adore Frigga, especially badass Frigga, so it's weird in all my fics I make her such an awful mother - either neglectful like in Snuff or Missing You, or irritatingly passive, as in this story. I guess it's just because she's pretty passive in the movie, too, and therefore I was trying to sustain her character in that sense since this is set in the canon timeline, even though it's sort of AU.

It was around noon when the enchantment finally wore off. Loki rolled over, stiff for lying in the same position for  hours. His hand still held the letter-opener, his fingers somewhat moulded to the shape of the handle. There was a tray of food on his bedside table – presumably breakfast that had been brought in at some point in the morning.  Hesitantly, he climbed off the bed and went into the bathing room, listening out for any sound of someone coming into the room. Once he was certain he wasn’t going to be disturbed, he took the large ringlet that was the back of his hair and pulled it over his shoulder.

Carefully, he turned to get a better view and brought the blade to the back of his neck, pulling the hair taught. Then he began hacking at the curls, cutting them off with jagged slashes in an attempt to get his hair back to its usual feathery state. Once the back was done, he did the same to the two tresses at the front of his shoulders, then he tidied it up.

Black coils littered the floor like tiny snakes. He kicked them aside, smoothing down his hair in relief that it was back to normal. Satisfied, he proceeded to dress himself with what he’d been wearing the day before, replacing his ripped garments for a similar new one, and left.

Laufey was in the library, looking through a magic book and apparently waiting for him. He stood up when Loki approached, smiling at him.

“How are you feeling today, my son?”

“Much better, thank you. What am I going to do today?” Laufey had so far not noticed his hair, or if he had he’d not mentioned it.

“Today, I think I will show you part of my realm. We shall visit some of the mining towns where our supply of gold and sapphires comes from.” The king pulled on a large red cloak and led Loki to the gate they’d talked about the day before. Once through it, Loki was directed to a sled with six very large grey dogs attached. Laufey climbed in after him and took the reins, whipping the dogs into motion.

The journey took an hour, and once they stopped Loki was guided to a small village hall surrounded by houses on top of a snowy plateau. Inside was a surly looking Jotun writing in a large ledger. A small girl was playing with a pile of snow in the corner, making shapes in it and knocking them down again afterwards. The man looked up for a moment, a sigh escaping his thin lips, and started when he saw the company. Hastily he bowed, gesturing Laufey and his son to a pair of seats by the door.

“I’m so sorry, your majesty, but we did not expect your visit. I will have my daughter prepare you something immediately.” He shouted through the doorway behind his desk and a flustered looking young woman emerged. She too bowed upon seeing the king, and abruptly left to prepare drinks for their guests.

“Not at all, I am only passing through, to give my son a tour of the realm. This is Loki,” he gestured towards the small man next to him. “He has at last been returned to his home after years of capture on Asgard.”

“Asgard? Forgive me, sire, but I wasn’t aware you had a third son.”

“He is my eldest, and was taken from me when he was only a baby. I have not seen him before until Odin’s son decided to attack us unexpectedly. He has been staying here for two days now.”

The man nodded, and returned to his desk, pulling out some papers to show the king. The two began a quiet conversation, leaving Loki to sit there awkwardly watching the little girl in the corner. Eventually he got up and went over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and asking her what she was doing. She turned a pair of huge red eyes on him, one fist dropping to crush the small snow dog she’d just made, and made a choking noise. Loki froze, watching as the eyes welled up, her mouth opening to let out a penetrating wail. He backed away to fetch the old man, explanations pouring from his lips, but no-one was listening. A moment later the young giantess emerged again, scooping up the child and patting her back. She shot a filthy look at Loki, who only stuttered that he hadn’t meant to upset the little girl, he’d just tried to talk to her.

“Loki? What are you doing?” Both his father and the older man had turned to look at him, the latter with an expression of disapproval.

“I just tried to talk to the little girl, and she started crying...”

Laufey paused, then shook his companion’s hand and put a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “I think it would be best if we left now. Thank you for your hospitality.” They hurried out of the hall and into the sled, giving Loki no chance to look around. An hour later they were back at the castle, Loki being sat down in the small function room by his father for an explanation.

“Loki, I think I ought to explain to you something about your past...”

“Is that why no-one here likes me? Why even though I am the first born prince all the servants make a mockery of me? About time.”

“I really don’t know how to start this, other than shortly after my coronation I got married to the wonderful woman that is now my queen. Unfortunately, I was already in a relationship with someone else. She wasn’t well thought of at all – her father was a gold miner from the town we visited this morning, and he believed he and his fellows were treated badly, so he tried to revolt. Unfortunately, his plan included blowing up several of the mineshafts, with himself inside. My lover had followed her father’s beliefs, and was thus always thought of as a troublemaker. No-one accepted her as my love interest, but we kept our relationship once I was married.

“Next thing I knew, she was pregnant. With you. I did not know what to do, so I went and told my wife everything. She wasn’t impressed, said I should have the child killed and never see the other woman again. So I went back to tell my lover this. She just threw back in my face all the promises I had made to her , that once I was king I would ensure equality for everyone in her position, and that she would be respected. I genuinely did not know what to do, other than I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her or her child. So I left her for a while, sending food and anything else she needed, putting her out of her mind, even though I loved her.”

Loki just stared. It all sounded like some kind of story; it was almost impossible to believe. But then, if he’d been told a few weeks ago he was the lost prince of Jotunheim, and Laufey’s son, he would have found it hardly credible.

“It was around the time you were born that the enormous battle between us and Asgard happened. Her village was attacked, and she ran to me for refuge. She had to go back though, to help her mother to the palace for safety. On her way back there was some sort of accident, and you ended up in the snow. Then...”

“Then Odin took me,” Loki muttered. “Then Odin took me, and raised me on Asgard as his own son, with Frigga my mother and Thor my brother, and all my friends.”

“And then my lover finally reached me, only to find you gone. She had also lost her mother. She said her goodbyes then, and I never saw her again, but she was found dead in her house a few weeks later.” Laufey sighed. Loki refused to look at him.

“And how does that explain why everyone seems to hate me?” he spat.

“Because you are a bastard, born outside of marriage with a woman who most people frowned upon as a mother. You are very like her in appearance, you know,” the king explained. That was one of the things he loved about his son – how much he was like his old love. It made him happy just to see Loki, and remember.

“And would you also be so kind as to explain why I am so small?”

“It is not unusual for one child to be smaller in size than the others. Usually it is the first child, and mostly the girls. It is very unusual for a son to be...of your size. It is something to do with female blood; those who are smaller also pass it down to their children, but sometimes it skips a generation, or is passed on to a son. Your mother was small – not as much as you are, but I would say she was around seven and a half feet tall.”

“I see.” It was getting dark now, and lights were coming on in the room next to them. Loki could smell cooking, his stomach growling in response. He ignored it – he would not be eating dinner tonight. Not if he wanted to follow his plan. “Thank you, for that explanation. I shall return to my room now. Goodnight, Father.” Laufey nodded, squeezing his shoulder as he left. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard his name.

“Loki,” Laufey called. “Your stylist will be waiting in your room to sort your hair. I do not expect you to behave in that way again.” His father left his sight, leaving Loki to return to his room in peace.  

When he arrived at his room his stylist was, as Laufey had said, waiting on his bed. She gave him a disapproving look before leading him into the bathing room.

“I hope we can do it this time without you needing to be restrained,” she said, opening the bottle of bitter-smelling potion. “It’s not really that terrible.”

“It is humiliating, it makes me look like a girl,” Loki muttered as he felt hands running through his recently-shortened hair.

“It’s what they want for you; you just have to get over that. Trust me, I don’t want to be using my potions on you either - there are those who are willing to pay a lot to get their hands on them.”

Once his hair was back to being waist length again she tied it up in the rags, chatting idly to him about this and that, about his visit to the miming town. She seemed like a fairly decent person once he got over what she was doing to his hair, and she also didn’t seem to look down on him. He was tempted to ask her about that, whether she had been friends with his mother or something, but in her small talk she’d mentioned she had a brother in that village who’d been lost in the blasts, and who had also followed Loki’s grandfather’s beliefs.

They stayed talking for quite some time, even after his hair was restored, until she curtsied and told him she had to leave for dinner. Quickly he cast a glance at the tray of food left for his ‘breakfast’ that morning. She followed his gaze and stepped towards the platter.

“I take it you won’t be wanting that,” she said, picking it up and taking it out with her. Loki nodded, watching her leave, glad there was someone here who didn’t hate him.


	8. Chapter 8

The following day had a full excursion. Loki slept through breakfast again, starting to feel noticeably more tired from his lack of eating but determined to carry his plan through. He visited the entirety of the area surrounding the castle: villages that supplied meat and grain, forests where wood was gathered, and local mines and quarries which were used to build the palace. It was surprisingly lacking in ice, but Loki didn’t fail to notice how most of the plants and animals were different to those he’d known on Asgard.

When they stopped by the house of one of Laufey’s officials around midday for lunch, Loki politely declined, saying he’d eaten more than enough at breakfast and hoping word didn’t reach Laufey about the empty tray sitting outside his bedroom door. They returned late into the evening, a small supper prepared for the two of them, but the prince feigned tiredness and was permitted to go to bed without eating.

In the morning, he woke up with a cracking headache. The two servants that had dressed him were waiting at the end of his bed with a new set of clothes. This time he was dressed in a green silk belt with a huge jewel shaped like an oval and smoothly polished into a dome shape at the front. Underneath it was placed a white triangle of fabric with a gold trim which dangled in front of his legs to just below his knees. Around his hips and behind him hung a kind of skirt made of pale green cotton with black markings on it similar to the ones that covered his body. Although it didn’t really match the rest of his outfit, he was permitted to keep his cloak, mostly because he was nigh on inseparable from it.

He was taken to the little garden again to meet his father for the day’s learning, but his skull felt like it had just had Mjolnir thrown at it, so instead they remained inside for the day. Laufey asked if he’d had breakfast, and Loki nodded briefly before returning two fingers to each temple, trying to rub away the pain. Angrboda was summoned to the table they were sitting at and commanded to get a potion. When she returned she handed the potion to Loki who stared at it for a good five minutes before Angrboda took the lid off the bottle and dunked his fingers inside it.

“Rub it on your head, like this,” she returned his wet fingers to his forehead and rubbed them in circles. “And the pain goes away.” Loki sighed, his headache rapidly fading. She curtsied and walked off, occasionally throwing glances at father and son as she disappeared through the doorway.

“I really dislike her,” Loki said under his breath, hoping Laufey wouldn’t hear.

“That is a pity, because she’s a very lovely girl, and very well thought of. She is only serving here to get some experience at the palace before she moves on to take her mother’s place as one of my advisors. I thought you two would be such a good match,” his father mused. Loki got the hint. Parents didn’t refer to people as ‘good matches’ for their children because they wanted them to be friends.

Laufey handed his son some sheets of paper and a pen, then began filling him in on Jotunheim’s past, watching his son take notes.

“I am not going to test you on this later, you know,” he chuckled as Loki scribbled down the names of the trees that first grew in the realm.

“I know, but I like history. I wanted to write down what you tell me so I can find out more,” his son replied. It was a lie; he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in anything to do with Jotunheim, but it would perhaps mean Laufey talked for longer instead of taking him out.

After a whole day’s discussion, Loki bade his father goodnight and went to bed, stomach growling. He lay awake for several hours before finally charming himself into sleep, aware he would never get any rest without magic if he stayed hungry from now on.

The rest of the first week passed much the same – outings to parts of the realm Laufey thought he would be interested in, followed by long talks in which his son would make piles of notes that then got stuffed away inside the desk, never to be touched again. Often they would miss lunch, something about which Loki never complained, saying breakfast and dinner were always more than enough for him, and still the trays were placed back outside his door after he left in to mornings and when he returned at night for someone else to take.

On the ninth day after he arrived, Loki woke up from a brief, magically induced sleep to the usual tray of food on his bedside table. He moved to sit up and the world tilted. His stomach rumbled in protest – it had now been a week and a half since he’d last eaten, and he was beginning to weaken. He managed to dress himself in a combination of the usual belt and other fabric, cloak pulled tight around his shoulders, stumbling out the door to the garden.

Laufey greeted him with a warm smile and directed him to the gate. Loki tried to get up, but felt a dizziness coming over him and flopped back onto the bench.

“Loki? Are you well?” the Jotun king asked, putting a hand on his son’s forehead.

“I am...fine, just a little...just a little dizzy, that is all...” Loki admitted weakly. His words sounded distant, as if coming from underwater. He tried to stand back up, but all his limbs felt like lead and his head swam. A sea of voices surrounded him suddenly, and he felt several pairs of arms pick him up and carry him into an unfamiliar room. He was laid out on a bed and examined by two healers, one of which he recognised as his stylist.

“Loki, how do you feel? When was the last time you ate something?” she pressed gently.

“Last-last night, for dinner. I...I did not feel like breakfast...” he said quietly. She gave him a disbelieving look, and he realised she knew he hadn’t eaten dinner for several days. He pleaded with his eyes that she wouldn’t say anything, couldn’t give him away, otherwise his plan would be ruined.

She sighed and turned to Laufey. “He needs to eat something. It should pass after he has some food in his belly.” The king nodded and sent someone to get a basic meal prepared. He seemed distraught, and Loki smiled to himself. He was beginning to win at last. He finally had some degree of power back, and over the king of all people.

Once the food was brought, the second healer tried to feed him a piece of bread dipped in a kind of oily condiment. He pressed his lips shut, turning away to deny her access to his mouth. Instead she picked up a slice of spiced meat and tried that, with no success.

“Loki, you need to eat. You need to eat to get better,” Laufey explained. _I know,_ Loki thought. _The point is though, I don’t want to get better._ He kept his lips firmly closed, wriggling away from the healer when she tried to get food close to him. He couldn’t give in. Not even for one moment – it was all they needed, to get one morsel of food through his lips and then it would be too late, his hunger would overwhelm him, instinct would take charge, and he would have lost.

Loki didn’t like to lose.


	9. Chapter 9

He’d been in the infirmary for about an hour after they gave up, recovering before he was moved back to his room. As he had grown increasingly more resistant, they had used more and more force, until they had one of the servants pinning him _down_ so the healer could force open his jaw and slip a sliver of bread into his mouth.

There had been lots of shouting, but none on his part, because as much as he wanted to shout and scream at them to get off him, he knew that if he’ had opened his lips for even one moment to speak they would have been on him in an instant, choking him with bread and meat and oil.

He tried clawing at the man holding him down’s legs, which were holding his arms out away from his face, but it was of no use. Eventually they got his mouth open and were about to feed him bread when he seized the moment to utter a spell, and suddenly his captor was being hurled across the room with enormous force, green fire licking up his arms.

Laufey was staring, horrified, at the whole affair. He tried to tackle Loki to the ground but missed when he had to doge a blast of energy aimed at the healer next to him.

It didn’t last long, but it was fairly messy. The first healer, his friend, hadn’t tried to stop him, and was now tending to the burns on her accomplice and the servant who’d restrained Loki. Laufey was in a meeting urgently called by Býleistr concerning a dispute in one of the outer villages.

Now back in his room, Loki allowed himself to smile properly for the first time since arriving on Jotunheim. Everything had gone well, if not quite according to how he had expected, and now he knew he wouldn’t have to tour the realm again.

No-one came to him the next day – he awoke to find the usual breakfast in place, but none of his servants had come to inform him if Laufey wanted to speak with him, and he didn’t feel like going to the garden to check. Instead he spent the entire day making shapes with his magic and watching them dance about each other, telling stories in their movements.

On the eleventh day, a note was delivered to him. Laufey requested his presence in the library, and that he should bring a quill and paper. Loki carefully made his way there, aware he was still weak with hunger, to find his father with a warm smile on his face and a book about the sorcerers of Jotunheim sat on the table before him.

“Today I thought we would talk a bit about magic, since it is one of your interests,” he explained, and began to talk about the sorcerers of old. He spoke again of how magic was uncommon amongst Jotuns these days, except some limited ability in maternal bloodlines. The name Farbauti came up a few times, and Loki couldn’t hide his curiosity, for once interested in his father’s ramblings.

“Who is this Farbauti you speak of? You have mentioned her several times, and seem to speak highly of her,” he asked.

Laufey looked down, catching Loki’s gaze. “She is your mother.” Loki nodded. He finished his notes and requested permission to look at the book Laufey’s hand was resting on.


	10. Chapter 10

Late one evening, sometime near the end of the second week, Loki was summoned to the main hall by his father. Angrboda was sent to assist him, as most of the household had come to accept he couldn’t travel very far on his own. She looped one of his arms around her shoulders and helped him to walk down the stairs and round the maze of corridors that led to the vast room.

“I can’t believe I’m helping you, the first prince of Jotunheim, around the palace like you’re an old man,” she said, turning a corner carefully.

“Trust me, I dislike it just as much as you do,” Loki hissed back.

“Why honestly would you starve yourself until you’re too weak to walk around even your own home? What is the point in that?”

“This is _not_ my home,” he snarled, “and I’ am doing it so I do not have to visit the entirety of Jotunheim with my oaf of a father.”

“It wouldn’t do good to speak of the king that way, even if you are his son, _your highness_ ,” she smirked at the term. “You could get into serious trouble for such treason.”

“If he so much as lays a finger on me he will have all of Asgard ready to hack his head off,” Loki retorted. She was starting to tire him, but he couldn’t deny it was entertaining to have at last met someone with the same skill at arguing and insults as himself.

“Oh yes, your lovely family, who stole you and raised you to use you as a tool for peace. Something tells me that after all that effort, they won’t be willing to break the treaty just because you got a little beaten up for stepping out of line.”

“And you would know,” he spat, thinking of his family there. Odin wouldn’t care less, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t be stuck here now. Frigga was relatively powerless. Thor however, would not hesitate to come and smash some people about if he heard word of Loki’s suffering, which was almost as irritating as it was endearing.

“I don’t claim to be an expert, but that’s what it looks like to me,” she said, shooting him a cold smile.

“I can’t believe my father was thinking of betrothing us,” Loki muttered.

“I _know_ , it will be a complete disaster,” she said, mimicking his furious tone. Loki decided he would have to work on how loudly he talked under his breath from now on.

Once in the hall, Loki was surprised to see Laufey, his wife, Helblindi and Býleistr sitting on their thrones, all in full royal garb, all with matching gold crowns on their heads. Loki’s throne had been brought out of its corner and placed next to Helblindi’s. There was also a large crowd of people: a mixture of officials, healers, advisors and high-status servants. Laufey stood on Loki’s arrival and picked up a cushion covered with a blue silk cloth.

All the eyes in the room were on the two of them, Angrboda forgotten as she assisted Loki in walking forward towards his father. Helblindi couldn’t contain a small snort at the sight of his elder brother, the supposed Treasure of Jotunheim, hobbling towards Laufey with the aid of a serving girl slightly taller than him. They both looked so small in the cavernous room, surrounded by people ranging from four to six feet taller than themselves, it was almost comical.

“Seeing as your original crown was the wrong size, and also that you have the rare gift of sorcery, I had a new symbol of your royalty made.” Laufey drew back the cover, revealing a small circlet on a red velvet cushion. It was made of strands of silver, around a quarter of an inch thick, looping delicately around each other. Around the front the metal dipped down in a ‘V’ shape with a small double twist at the bottom. Supported by these branches sat a large, roughly cut ice crystal about the size of a rose. Attached to the weaving patterns of silver were what at first looked like metal flowers, but on closer inspection were snowflakes, each six-pointed tiny star as unique as the real things. It almost seemed to give off its own light, and as Laufey ceremoniously placed it on Loki’s brow it shone against his dark hair, bringing out highlights that were nearly blue.

The whole room was silent, as if expecting Loki to say something, but he didn’t know how to react. The circlet was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he could feel it sitting comfortably on his head, but at the same time it just added to the humiliation he felt at the way they made him dress here.

Loki nodded, murmuring a brief “Thank you,” to his father, and the whole room relaxed. The king clapped his huge hands together and suddenly the place was alive with dishes being carried to tables which were pulled away from around the walls and arranged for a feast. Loki’s knees sagged, and Angrboda helped him to his throne, where he climbed up and almost collapsed, glad that this time they allowed him a box.

Soon everyone was laughing and feasting, Helblindi talking loudly about his latest hunting quest and downing mug after mug of ale. Loki leant against the side of his throne, which had enough room that he could get comfortable on it without having to bend himself in awkward angles. The feast was fairly boring - he sat without eating throughout the whole thing, determined to keep to his plan of not eating; everyone was in far too good cheer to notice.

At some point in the evening, Helblindi fell asleep mid-sentence, his head lolling until he slid forward onto the table. Loud snores filled the room, drawing everyone’s attention to the time, and they began to disperse. Angrboda helped Loki back to his room, even offering to give him a boost into the enormous bed to save him climbing up – she’d drunk quite a bit and was in a relatively good mood, willing to help for once without the venomous words that were her usual trademark. Loki politely declined, saying he had something to do before bed, and she nodded, kissing his hand like he was some kind of princess being courted, then departed.

Loki slumped on the floor, taking off his circlet for closer examination. It truly was beautiful, a perfect combination of ice and magic, which was exactly how he presumed his father saw him, but it was also very feminine. Something a maiden would wear, if it had been presented to anyone on Asgard. And as much as Loki accepted he was no longer _on_ Asgard, it was still hard to swallow, considering he hadn’t seen anyone else, male _or_ female, on Jotunheim sporting such clothes and hair as he did.

Suddenly, he felt rage bubble up in his chest. Why, _why_ was he being treated like this, like he was some kind of plaything, a doll for the Jotuns to dress up and fawn over? He cast the circlet across the floor, relishing in the dull scraping sound it made. He tore off his cloak, think back to his first tantrum where he’d destroyed his clothes. It had satisfied some of his frustration, but this time it didn’t feel like enough. Instead he shoved everything he’d been wearing earlier in a pile by the wardrobe and began to search through it for something that resembled Asgardian wear. The closest he could find was a satin tunic with large slits up the sides. It was the only thing he’d seen in his wardrobe that was specifically designed to cover his chest as well as below the waist.

He pulled the outfit out, finding a leather belt at the back too, and flung them on the bed. It would be all he was wearing from now on. He decided against cutting his hair, only because he didn’t want to annoy his stylist, or go through the procedure of having it regrown again. Instead he hurried into the bathing room, pulling at his earrings. The large colourful one that brushed his shoulder came out easily. The loops were harder to master – they sprung shut and were quite fiddly to keep open long enough to remove. The ear cuff snapped open with ease and he carefully slid it out. The studs were easiest to undo, and he pulled all three of them off, scattering them on the floor as he did so.

Loki decided he still had to do something to his hair, so he pulled at it, messing up the carefully slicked back front and breaking up the ringlets so they just looked like a tangle of waves. He was exhausted and hungry out of his mind, but he couldn’t stop, not until he was satisfied he could still control his appearance. Looking up at himself again, he jumped back in surprise. The face in the mirror was no longer blue. It was slowly creeping back to a shade of pale pinky-white that was his natural Asgardian skin tone. Tentatively Loki reached up a hand to touch the mirror, then his own face, surprise written all over his face. _How had this happened?_

Hastily he thought back to when he was turned blue permanently in the first place. What had they done that had made him blue that he’d suddenly changed? His brain wouldn’t work fast enough, and he let out a groan of frustration, desperate to find out the key. _It felt like ice water sliding down my neck, when they put the first hole in..._

He dropped onto all fours, searching for the smaller round gold stud and its back. He found it next to the bath, and gently put it back into his ear, now free of holes except that one. At first nothing happened, and he began to panic that he couldn’t change back. Forcing himself to think carefully, to analyse the memory with care, he pushed down on the stud. A faint click sounded. A familiar icy sensation shot down his neck, and he turned to see himself becoming blue again. Once he decided this was the key, he took the stud out again and watched the blue patch fade. He put the earring back in, marvelling at the cold he felt and the blueness spreading across his skin. He had found it at last. _But how did they do it?_

It was all too confusing for the late hour. Instead he walked over to the bed and put a hand flat against the side. Magic flowed to his fingertips and the bed shuddered. Slowly it reduced in height until it stood with the top in line with his waist, the extra foot and a half transforming itself into a small table in the corner beneath the window opposite the bedside cabinet. Loki hopped into his bed with ease, glad at last he no longer had to clamber up like he was in an assault course. He watched sleepily as a lacy white cloth laid itself on top of the table, the style contrasting completely with the rest of the room. The spell had been one he’d learnt after spending one afternoon talking with Laufey about magic. Amongst other things he’d also learnt how to cast glamours that worked even when other people looked directly at the subject.

His mind drifted off to much needed sleep, his hunger long forgotten, and somewhere in the back of his head he was glad at last to sleep without needing a spell to keep him under.


	11. Chapter 11

Hours blurred into days, and there was no way of tracking time any more, except through the occasional knock by the maid, bringing in a tray of food. Even that was starting to fade from his memory: he was unable to remember the last time a meal was bright to him, for as soon as he was alone he automatically took whatever drink there was and put the rest outside. The next time someone passed in the hallway, they would take it away, probably to feed their own families from the waste left by the spoilt prince.

It had been almost three weeks now, and Loki was feeling it. His head started spinning whenever he stood up; sometimes the world lurched so violently he had to pinch the squat brown bedside table to stay himself. Since his hunger had made long walks difficult, Laufey had completely stopped trying to ‘bond’ with his son by touring the realm. Instead, he would invite him to the gardens or the library for further talks, allowing the young prince to catch up on everything he’d missed on Jotunheim since, well, forever.

Loki was staring at the wall blankly, his mind wandering back to Asgard and his life there. Odin, his pathetic excuse for a foster father, who sold him without a thought to Laufey in order to protect his precious kingdom. Frigga, his gentle foster mother, who would do anything for her sons...except cross the will of Odin. And Thor, his ‘brother’. Despite the older warrior’s habit for exaggeration, and his bluntness, Loki found himself missing Thor. He missed all his ‘family’ from Asgard, but that might just have been because his Jotun family were not really his type.

He was remembering walking with Thor a few years ago around the citadel of Asgard. The sunlight had filtered through the leaves of the avenue they were strolling along, and he recalled thinking how the light had shone on Thor’s hair, so golden and beautiful. _The perfect successor to Odin; this magnificent warrior prince..._

Spots were appearing on the wall opposite, darting back and forth across his field of vision. Loki’s stomach growled, wrenching him back to the present situation. The spots didn’t fade though - in fact they multiplied until he thought he would topple over from dizziness. At last, he had become faint with hunger. He relished in the sensation, delighted that he had finally made himself sick enough that he couldn’t leave his quarters anymore. _No more long talks with Laufey...not unless they force feed me...and we know how well that went last time._

In his relief he let his mind return to his last thought, the memory washing over him. He fiddled with the small gold stud high up his left ear, the one that kept him in his Jotun form, until it came off in his fingers. When the maid came in with his lunch she saw only a hunched form on the bed, staring intently at the wall and whispering to himself. Loki did not notice her visit at all.

For another hour he stayed there, watching the dots dance in front of his eyes, remembering. No matter how often he tried to change his train of thought, his mind always travelled back to Thor. As he wandered through some childhood memories, Loki noticed the spots grouping together in a sort of yellowish smear, as if in sympathy. He watched, brows furrowed, as a darker, bronze coloured shape formed beneath the golden one. After that was the brilliant red of Thor’s cape, until before him stood a full size, out of focus image of his brother.

“Loki...”

The words drifted into his head slowly, echoing around as he came to his senses.

“Loki? Brother? Can you hear me?”

_I’ve done it_ , Loki thought, _I’ve finally lost it. Three weeks on Jotunheim and I’m already hallucinating. And about Thor of all things._

“Yes Thor, I can hear you, though I highly doubt you can hear me.” The dark-haired god smiled grimly to himself. He wondered if anyone would hear the conversation, and what they would think, to find the beloved Treasure of Jotunheim talking to himself.

“Loki, thank goodness I found you. I thought I would have to search the entire palace!” Thor grinned, leaning forwards to put an arm around his brother’s shoulder and give it a welcoming squeeze. He was surprised when the smaller man leapt at the touch.

“Loki? What is wrong? Are you hurt?” Thor’s voice was filled with concern. _If those barbaric Jotuns had hurt his brother..._

Loki’s response however was to mutter to himself: “A hallucination with _touch,_ now that _is_ new. And I thought I was mad when he spoke...this place really has messed me up. And to think, I would have been raised here...”

“Loki? I do not understand. You think...you’re seeing things? Like what?”

“Oh don’t waste your breath Thor, I know you are not real,” Loki snapped. He’d had enough of this. He stood up off the bed and walked towards the wardrobe. After the first few paces though, his sight was completely obscured by the dots and he wobbled, lurching forwards. A strong, warm arm slid around his waist and caught his fall, slowly righting him again.

“Easy there. I do not think you are feeling very well, brother. Do you wish to lie down?”

By now, Loki had decided that even if he could imagine his brother’s touch, no vision could have broken his fall like that. Part of him wanted to snap, to tell Thor he wasn’t a child, he didn’t need looking after. But another part just let him go limp as he was sat down on the bed again by his older brother and a supportive arm wound around him.

Thor noticed the uneaten tray of food on the table by the window and shook his head. His brother could be so stubborn sometimes. It was not surprising that he had nearly fainted earlier, if he hadn’t eaten lunch. The goblet had been removed to the bedside cabinet however, and two thirds had been drunk. Loki hadn’t been entirely stupid then – he wasn’t going to kill himself from thirst. Still, it worried him that Loki had starved himself, and it probably wasn’t just this mealtime either. It was just the kind of thing his brother would do: forced to stay on Jotunheim against his wishes, he would protest in a way that no-one would notice until it was too late. If it had been Thor in that situation, he probably would have charged around smashing the place up until the Jotuns managed to sedate him.

Which brought his mind back to the original reason he’d come here. Why was Loki _really_ a prisoner on Jotunheim anyway? Odin had skirted the issue when explaining, saying that Laufey had asked for one of his sons as a boon for peace, and of course it had been a hard choice, but Odin couldn’t really give away his firstborn and heir. On hearing this, Thor had said nothing, Frigga quickly bursting into tears. Neither of them really believed Odin’s half-truths, but there was nothing they could do to change his decision.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a long wait for anything to happen and the chapters have been relatively short I know, but stuff actually happens in the next chapter and it's really long so yeah, bear with...

Thor had waited for three weeks, convincing himself he could get along without his smaller, sometimes irritating brother. Life in the court of Asgard returned to normal, except there was one less person for him to train with, and one less person to dine with in the evenings, one less person to talk to. Most people had taken the loss of Loki in their stride; certain people, particularly the Lady Sif, were glad of his disappearance, in fact – she had never really trusted the subtle, more passive son of Odin. Even Frigga, who loved her sons dearly, seemed to have got over it upholding her side of the bargain easily, which left Thor wondering if he was the only one who felt even remotely sad at the loss of his brother.

The grief was gnawing away at him slowly, until by the middle of the third week Thor decided he would try to find his brother, even if it was to just see if he was alive and well. Yes, it would cross the will of Odin, and Thor knew he was taking a great risk in his plan, but he was determined.

On returning to his chambers the evening before his departure, he passed his mother’s room. The door was open – usually a sign that it was vacant – but through it Thor saw Frigga curled up on her bed, her face hidden. He paused, curious, and was tempted to go in to her, but he froze mid-step when he heard a sob escape her lips.

“Loki...”

Thor’s heart clenched. Half of him desperately wanted to go in to his mother, to comfort her in any way he could, but half of him knew it would be of no help. Her pain was enough to decide it for him – he would visit Loki as soon as he possibly could, regardless of Odin, and bring her news of him. It was the only way he could think of resolving this, and he didn’t care if it broke the peace with Laufey. Frigga had hidden her grief because she feared Odin’s wrath, but still more she feared the truth. To be told absolutely, that she would never see her son again, unless she was prepared for everything she knew now to be lost.

His hand tightened around Mjolnir and he walked on to his room. Throwing on his armour, sheathing a knife in his belt and fastening up his cape, he marched to the Bifrost. On passing Frigga’s room again, he murmured to the open doorway and the now empty bed,

“I’ll bring him back for you, Mother. Even if I die out there, even if the Jotuns hold me for the rest of my life, I’ll bring him back.”

And Frigga came out from behind the door where she’d hidden in fear of someone witnessing her tears, to see the red shape of her son’s cape vanish down the corridor, his oath still hanging in the air.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens, hooray!

“Why are you here, Thor? Why did you come?” Loki did not mean to sound so tired, but he could not muster the bitterness needed to hide his exhaustion when he was so glad of his brother’s company.

“I came...because losing you broke Mother’s heart...And...” He trailed off, unwilling to add the second reason, partly because he didn’t entirely understand it himself.

Loki seemed to ignore the loose end, because he just turned around and replied sharply,

“Well you can tell Mother that all well, I’m having a lovely time here, and I shall send her a postcard when I have bought some stamps, all right? Lovely to see you Thor, truly. But you really must be going – I have a meeting with Laufey. Goodbye.” He waved his hand at Thor, signalling that he could leave now, and started rummaging through his bedside drawers.

“Are you honestly telling me you are not happy to see me, brother?” Thor had to admit that stung. He had thought Loki would be as pleased to see him as he was to his younger brother. But Loki was Loki, and therefore was unlikely to show emotion towards anything, good or bad.

“Not happy, no. It does not really bother me, if I am honest. I am just intrigued that you managed to get in here without being noticed. Now, if you will excuse me...” He took a deep breath, shut his eyes and stood up. Trying his hardest to control the swaying, he walked towards the wardrobe to find a suitable cape to wear. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t meeting with Laufey; he was just trying to convince Thor he was leaving so his brother would go. For the past weeks he had been unbearably lonely, desperately wishing to talk to anyone but the Jotuns, but now Thor was here he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want Thor to see him like this. Because he’d finally made himself weak enough that he would no longer have to spend time with his Jotun family, but to be this vulnerable in front of Thor was humiliating.

“I do not believe you.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I do not believe that you are not pleased to see me.” Loki was also acutely aware that it was nearly dinner time, and the maid would be returning with his food soon. He had to get rid of Thor before she saw him, and before she saw Loki in his Asgardian form.

“Well that’s lovely, but whatever you believe, I strongly suggest you leave now before you get caught. I am sure Laufey would not take an unexpected visit by Odin’s son particularly well, you see, and I am also sure your father would not want to have his precious peace broken _again_.”

“You speak of Odin as if he was not your father any more. And me as if I was not your brother. Why is this, Loki? What have we done to make you disown us?” Thor sounded like it was taking a lot of effort to control his voice. It wasn’t working very well either.

“Do I? I had not noticed. Sorry if I offended.” Loki shrugged him off nonchalantly, uncomfortably aware it was getting later, and Thor still wasn’t gone.

“Loki.”

“ _Yes_ , Thor? What is it you want now?” His brother had got up from the bed and started to wander around Loki’s quarters. Currently he was exploring the small desk in the corner of the room, adorned with a blue and gold throw. Along the top were several rows of ink bottles and two large feather quills, the third stowed in his drawer full of notes. The chair situated in front of it was made of a dull, greyish metal and a small dark green cushion was resting on the back of it, obviously in an attempt to make it less uncomfortable.

“Do you know...why exactly you are here?” The openness of the question threw Loki off guard, and he turned to face Thor. It would be easier to lie in this case; he had some inkling of what Odin had told his family and hoped he could keep on par with that. Make up a believable excuse and then hopefully, _hopefully,_ Thor would leave before anything happened to him.

_To him?_ When had his concerns about the maid changed to worrying about Thor being seen? Surely, it was just a slip in his thoughts. Yes, he was worried because he did not want Thor to see his Jotun form, but if _anyone_ , even the maid, saw him looking like an Asgardian, the punishment would be far worse.

“The Jotuns wanted a boon in exchange for peace. They wanted a son of Odin – a suitable sacrifice. If the Jotuns did anything to the prince, they knew they would incur Odin’s full wrath. On the other hand, if Odin or any one of his court tried to attack Jotunheim in any way, the prince would bear the brunt of the Jotuns’ anger. A fair deal to express the full cost of war. Odin chose me because you were his heir, and I was disposable, I suppose.” Loki tried to sound casual, as if explaining something simple to a child, but he couldn’t suppress a choke as a fresh wave of pain at Odin’s decision, at _all_ Odin’s decisions, hit him again.

“That was almost the exact story Odin told me.”

“How curious.”

“For someone who always despised him, you do sound very like your father.”

Loki twitched at the term. “Fascinating.”

“But again, your story makes no sense. Laufey is not stupid. If that was the true reason for him wanting you, he would not have demanded council with Odin and then forced everyone to leave without a proper explanation. He would have brought it up as part of the negotiation when he gave us permission to leave in the first place, before Odin arrived.” Why was Loki lying to him? He knew his brother had a way with words – he’d always been able to persuade people to do his will, Thor no less than anyone else, but never had he lied so openly to him before.

“...Laufey...has got it into his head that I am his son. A while after Volstagg got burnt by a Jotun, one of them grabbed my wrist. Laufey thought he saw my skin turn blue, so he demanded to speak to Odin immediately. Each lord was allowed to bring one warrior to the tent with him, for safety’s sake, but you were...unavailable, so he took Sif. There was some discussion about me, then we all got sent out. There was arguing. And shouting, lots of shouting.

“They came to the agreement that Laufey would let Odin and his warriors leave in peace, and to forget the whole ordeal in fact, if his ‘son’ was allowed to stay. I was led away and you departed via the Bifrost.

“For the next week I was spoilt and worshipped like a prince. Well, by Laufey anyway. He would give me anything. I have toured the whole realm, you know. I am his first born, and supposedly his heir, so my ‘brothers’ did not take too kindly to me coming in and usurping their place in Father’s heart. They have done everything in their power to make me one of them, right down to the clothes. This is the closest thing to Asgardian wear I own – all my old clothes are gone. I have also learnt all about the history of Jotunheim, right the way back to its creation. It has been fascinating really, if rather odd...” He hoped he had managed to convince Thor that Laufey only _thought_ Loki was his son. If Thor knew the truth, it would be devastating. He’d be disgusted that the man he’d called ‘brother’ all his life was in fact his oldest enemy, and not just in the sibling rivalry sense.

“Laufey thinks you are his firstborn son,” was all Thor could manage.

“Yes, the name ‘Loki Laufeyson’ has quite a ring to it, does it not?” Loki joked, hating how thin and strained his voice sounded. He pulled out a black piece of fabric and a gold belt with a large jewelled buckle. Hastily he turned his back to Thor and began to get into his Jotun clothes. He didn’t appreciate changing in front of his brother, but seeing as Thor was so reluctant to leave, and the maid due any moment now, he had to make it look like he hadn’t spent the last five hours in Asgardian dress and daydreaming about his childhood.

“And it has never occurred to him that you are, well, incredibly small for a Jotun. And s-slim,” he stumbled over the words, aware that just a few paces away his brother was changing into Jotun clothing, which didn’t exactly hide much of the body. “And...you are not blue. Those are sort of the key things that make a Jotun, and seeing as you have none of them, you can hardly be claimed as Laufey’s son,” Thor laughed, trying to relieve the tension of the situation. He found it very hard to comprehend that Loki could be anything but his younger brother, anything but Asgardian.

“Personally, I am just glad that there’s some peace between our realms for once. If it is because Laufey has gone a bit mad, then so be it; peace is peace, brother.” Loki had finished changing and was now looking for his earrings. Once he put the gold stud in his ear, all his other piercings would reappear as his skin turned to its natural colour once more. He opened the bottom draw of the bedside cabinet and took out the nine other pieces of ear jewellery, carefully sliding the drawer shut again.

“What are those?” Thor asked. He had noticed something else in the drawer too, something that glittered with what seemed to be its own light, but hadn’t had the chance for a proper look before it had been concealed again.

“Earrings. Just another part of being a Jotun prince now,” Loki fiddled uncomfortably with the top of his left ear. The hole was still there, but invisible to those unaware existence.

“Earrings? For who?” Loki smirked. Thor did have a tendency to miss the point sometimes.  “You don’t have any piercings.”

“Look, Thor, I have put this off for long enough. I have to leave in a few moments, but first the maid will bring me my dinner. You cannot be seen here by anyone. Do you understand? _Anyone_. And since you do not seem to plan on leaving any time soon, I suggest you hide somewhere. Now.”

“No, brother, I will stand here until I may talk with Laufey about the terms of the peace deal.” Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy – not that he ever thought it would be – but he had to hide Thor. His brother clearly didn’t know what he was talking about – he had no chance negotiating with Laufey. The only possible solution that _didn’t_ result in both their deaths would be Thor taking Loki’s place, which wouldn’t satisfy anybody, except perhaps Loki’s infuriating brothers.

“I am sorry Thor, but you’ll have to bear with me for a while.” He cast a glamour over his larger brother to make him unnoticeable by others, put a confusion spell on him and proceeded to shove Thor into the wardrobe.  The blond head lolled, and Loki had some difficulty shutting the door, but eventually he managed it with the aid of a rather elegant looking satin scarf hastily tied between the door handles.

Quickly Loki put the stud into his ear and shivered as his skin began to turn blue again. The familiar cold sensation shot down his neck and spine until his entire body was a brilliant azure shade. Gingerly touching the side of one pointed ear, he felt his eleven other piercings return. He picked up the other two studs and inserted them in their relative holes. Next up were the plain rings, small loops about the diameter of his little fingernail. Afterwards came the three twisted rings which were slightly larger. The ear cuff followed, and finally came the huge dangling earring, which he had to admit had grown on him, and he now found it rather attractive. He did not, however, appreciate the way it pulled his ear lobe down. Hastily he pulled on his fluffy-shouldered cloak and then sat down, doing his best to look like he wasn’t trying to do anything.

There was a knock at the door. Loki muffled a sigh as the maid entered the room with a tray of food, eyeing the previous uneaten one with annoyance. In all his distraction, Loki had forgot to leave lunch outside for someone else to claim, and now she was probably going to notify the staff of this, which would mean Laufey would eventually find out, which would mean...

But judging by the way she just removed the old tray and goblet from the room, tidied up the desk after Thor’s pawing of the throw on it and left, it seemed that she was just irritated that the prince did not appreciate the cooking. Loki let out a sigh of relief when she was gone, and was just untying the knot on the wardrobe when another knock sounded at the door. Quickly the Jotun prince put a spell on the doors so they wouldn’t open while she was in the room, hoping Thor wouldn’t make a noise or do something to direct her attention towards the precariously closed cupboard. She placed a note on the bedside table, curtsied and left.

This time Loki went over to his bed and sat down. He picked up the note off the top and turned it over in his fingers, one hand absently searching for the small dagger he used as a letter opener. It was in Laufey’s hand, requesting his presence in the Library the following afternoon. The letter was brief, which was unusual for Laufey’s requests, because usually he explained the basics of what he wanted to discuss with his son so Loki could bring any equipment needed for note-making and the like.

He opened the drawer with his circlet in it and slipped the note inside, wondering how on earth he was going to hide Thor whilst he was out with Laufey the next day, considering it was unlikely Thor would have left by then. The subtle shimmer of the silver crown caught his eye, and he took it out of the drawer. Carefully he examined the ice crystal at the front, and wondered if it could ever melt.

“Nothing in this realm is warm enough to melt ice,” he murmured softly to himself, peering at the transparent gem. _But that’s not true, is it?_ whispered his mind. _There is something, and you know full well-_ Loki abruptly ended that train of thought. It wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

A muffled cough came from the wardrobe, and his head snapped round to see the doors open and his older brother slide down into a heap on the floor, his lower legs still entangled in the sashes and stoles that the rest of Jotunheim – or rather, his father – so loved to see Loki wear. The charm was still on him, so it took a few moments for him to register that he was on the floor. In that time, Loki’s blood ran cold as he realised he was within moments of Thor finding out the truth about his so called ‘brother’s heritage. There was no time to do anything other than curl up in a ball under his large, fluffy cloak and hope Thor would actually leave before Loki had to reveal himself.

Thor grunted as he pushed himself up from the ground, still uncertain of how he got there. The last thing he remembered with clarity was telling Loki how he was going to talk to Laufey about the peace treaty, and then everything made no sense. Now he was on the floor, and felt just a little bruised. Hastily he looked around for his brother, worried for a moment that he had somehow left Thor on his own in the middle of Jotunheim. He spotted the curled up lump on the bed and went to rouse it so he could continue his investigation. The mattress sank beneath his weight, telling Loki that he was there but the smaller man did not move. Instead, he seemed to curl up even tighter within himself and pull the cloak over his head.

“Loki? Are you well? Why are you hiding like this? Are you cold?” The Jotun snorted. It was anatomically impossible for him to be cold, but he supposed to one as out of the loop as Thor, it could look that way judging by his behaviour. He didn’t respond however, fearing that an answer either way would result in Thor trying to expose him, which was the last thing that could happen. A sharp jab in the ribs reminded him his brother was not one to go unanswered, so he fidgeted to let Thor know he’d heard and carefully tucked his feet away.

Thor was puzzled by this sudden change of attitude, but chose to use it as a chance to explore the room. Loki heard drawers opening and cursed himself for not remembering Thor’s habit of going through his belongings, silently praying that the older man would not find anything that would give him away.

Which was, of course, the perfect opportunity for the Thunderer to come across the softly shimmering circlet Loki had forgotten to hide away from his earlier musings. The sun had gone down now, and the room was lit only by candles in the hallway and the light from the crown itself. Loki heard a soft scrape as Thor picked the crown up off the shelf in his bedside table, and a sharp intake of breath as he examined it. Still the Liesmith hid, wincing each time he heard a noise from his brother as he handled the delicate headdress.

“...Brother...what is this?” Thor’s voice was hushed, and laced with so much pain it made Loki wish he could huddle inside himself forever and never, ever face the world again. Slowly, a hand came to rest on his shoulder and he shook slightly in response. Oh, how he wanted to explain, to get it over with, to do anything than just lie there while his brother’s question hung in the air. But he was afraid. Afraid to see that handsome face twist up in disgust, afraid that once his brother found out, he would reject him too and then Loki would be truly alone.

“It is my crown,” he eventually managed to choke out. He hadn’t moved, but already he could see the curious, if slightly saddened expression crumpling into one of confusion. He knew his brother too well – after that would be the slow realisation, and then the horror.

“...Your crown? But...what does that mean, Loki?” The voice was hollow. Thor knew what it meant full well, and was almost afraid to have it confirmed, but at the same time it was desperately important that he should know, that he should at last understand the reality of the situation and why Loki was _really_ on Jotunheim.

“It means...” Loki started. He took a deep breath. There was no hiding it now. He had to plough on, had to get it over with. “It means everything I told you is true. I am a Jotun. I am Laufey’s firstborn son, and the rightful heir to Jotunheim. It means I have to stay here for the rest of my life, even though I will never be king because my brute of a younger brother has been in line since he was born and he won’t give up his inheritance without a fight. It _means_ that I no longer have any place to call home, because sooner or later I will not be able to move from this room if I stay here and it is already torturous enough, but if I _ever_ went back to Asgard, I would be the personification of a monster.” Loki had started to sob, and Thor tried to wrap a comforting arm around him, but Loki only shuffled away.

“Don’t touch me, please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to burn you...”

“What do you mean? How can you possibly-” Loki sat up. He pulled the cloak around his chin and covered his face with his hands. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he leant against the wall as far away from Thor as he could get. The room was shadowy, but the dark blue of Loki’s calf was unmistakeable against the white sheet of the bed. Black ringlets tumbled down the curved back, stark against the white fur of the cape across his shoulders.

“Oh, Loki...” Thor murmured.

“Please Thor,” Loki’s voice was thin and faint. He couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe he was telling Thor this, couldn’t believe he was about to lose the last person who cared about him. “Please, just...just go...”

Instead of listening to his brother’s request, the Thunderer stood up off the bed and knelt down in front the Jotun. He gently placed the circlet on top of the dark head, which shuddered under the pressure, marvelling in the way it brought out almost blue highlights in Loki’s hair. It suddenly made him feel small, to be in the presence of such power.

“Loki. Look at me, please,” Thor’s hand slid down onto the blue shoulder. It felt cold, but nothing like the icy burn Volstagg had described. His fingers idly traced the circular markings that stood out slightly from the surface of the skin.

“No. You don’t want to look. You cannot look,” Loki sobbed quietly, aware of how warm the hand was on his shoulder, and how it seemed to burn through his insides.

Loki’s face was buried in his hands. His fluffy cape had fallen off one shoulder during Thor’s tracings, but neither noticed. “Please brother, let me see you,” Thor murmured, almost crooning. He wanted to just pull Loki into his arms and hold him, hold him like he did when the slender little brother he used to live with had a nightmare, but was too scared to wake Odin and Frigga.

“You cannot see me like this. Why would you want to?” Loki had stopped shaking now – instead he was getting angry. “Why do you keep calling me that, anyway?” he spat. “I am not your brother, I am your enemy. Here you are, the golden Prince of Asgard, and I am a Jotun runt who has nothing to do with you, who should be your darkest enemy, who should be the prize you take back to Asgard to show your bravery and nobility. I am nothing, just the second best who is there to make number one look better, just the throwaway.” He wrenched his arm out of Thor’s grasp, but it was recaptured, and this time the touch was not gentle. It was like an iron vice around his shoulder, holding him fast, but not hurting him.

“Loki.” There was power there now, the stern decisiveness that had made the Silvertounge admire Thor since before he could remember. It was the kind of tone that couldn’t go unanswered, even though it wasn’t a question. Slowly, the head lifted. Bright scarlet eyes were met with cool blue ones. Loki’s hand clenched as he braced himself for the horror, drinking in the clarity of those eyes before they clouded in hatred and disgust like he knew they would. A shuddering breath escaped Thor’s lungs, one he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

“...I...” The crimson eyes began to sting, and Loki’s vision swam for a moment. A freezing cold tear slowly made its way down his cheek, catching at the angular scar that marked him as Laufey’s son. It dropped onto Thor’s hand, which remained gripping the smooth blue skin just below the shoulder, and spread in between his knuckles. Loki wanted to wipe the treacherous tears away, but he couldn’t move, because he was terrified that those brilliant blue eyes would change, would darken and cloud over the moment he looked away. A breath hitched in his throat and Loki stopped breathing, because he didn’t want anything to break this, and if that meant he died right there and then from lack of oxygen, then so be it.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Thor managed to loosen his grip on the Jotun’s arm. He didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen anything quite like Loki, never seen anything so graceful, so sharp, so _exquisite_. Words failed him; all he could do was drink in that perfect face which was familiar and yet so different while he struggled to think.

Loki couldn’t bear it any more. He had to be imagining it; it had to be a dream because there was no way Thor could look at him like that, not outside of his deepest imaginings which he’d kept locked up inside himself, hidden to even his everyday conscious mind.

“I am a monster.” The words tingled in the air almost with electricity. The blue eyes closed, and in that moment Loki felt the bottom fall out of his life, a great dark hole gaping beneath him, ready to suck him in. But it was over in a heartbeat, and the next moment the eyes had deepened, past the clarity that he always found with Thor – reading his brother had never been difficult – to a warm glow which he’d never seen before.

Thor’s expression was one of pure, open honesty as he slowly unclamped his hand from around Loki’s arm. The Liesmith was still rooted in place, still terrified that one wrong action would send it all crashing down. This was of Thor’s doing, and he would sit back and let him finish before he jumped to any conclusions.

“No...” the Asgardian paused, as if pondering whether any of this was real – exactly the same thing Loki was asking himself. “You’re beautiful, Loki.”

And it was the voice, in the end, that was the dark haired man’s undoing. Not the eyes, with the clarity of the Well of Urd inside them and yet deep down, the unmistakeable fire of something Loki didn’t allow himself to consider. Not the face, which was so honestly handsome with its expression of endless trust in one so untrustworthy. It was the voice, which was like sunshine, warming the very soul of the frost giant to the core. It spoke love, nothing more and nothing less, love in every possible way and Loki was no longer afraid, no longer ashamed of who and what he was, because he was melting in those eyes, consumed by the fire within them that burned for him and him alone. It had always been there, Loki realised now, but while before it was like a rough stone, fresh from the earth, dull and disregarded, now it was shining, sparkling like the brilliant cut diamond, each facet a different flame which shone with a part of him that was beautiful, that could never be wrong in Thor’s eyes.

One bronze arm stretched out to him, and the slender Jotun slid down into his brother’s embrace. Thor flinched a little at the chill he could feel coming off his brother, and Loki hesitated, but was immediately pulled closer into a warm hug.

“Now tell me you have not missed me,” Thor chuckled into dark hair. Loki squeezed tighter. “I missed you,” he breathed. Thor heard the hitch in his voice and drew back to look the Jotun in the eye again.

“What is wrong Loki? Why are you still upset?”

“Because...oh I can’t do this. I do not want this anymore...” He knew that he would have to tell Thor in the end, and that the best thing would be to tell him now, to get it over with. But it felt so good to be here with his brother like this, he would rather be outcast for the rest of eternity than break the moment.

Thor’s hands were warm on his back as the blond Asgardian shifted them so Loki was curled up and leaning against his chest.

“Tell me, if it will help you.”

Loki didn’t answer at first. He fidgeted, uncomfortable in the silence until Thor moved him and took of his armour. It wasn’t really the problem, but it did make Loki more comfortable to be leaning against Thor’s soft leather tunic. He relaxed and Thor’s hand started to smooth his hair, running his fingers through the soft ringlets which tumbled halfway down the slim back.

“I have to get it cut once I can control my appearance again,” Loki muttered, closing his eyes.

“I like it.” Dark eyebrows shot up, the contented expression fading. “I...I mean, it is a nice change...it suits you, I suppose...” Thor’s attempt at justification only resulted in a smirk from the Liesmith.

“I never knew you disliked my old appearance,” he said with mock-offence.

Thor was in deep water, and tried to splutter a few comebacks, but Loki saved him by putting a cool finger on his lips.

“Don’t bother, brother. You will not talk yourself out of that. Just go back to appreciating my unruly over-styled locks.” He turned back to press his face against warm leather.

They sat there for a while, Thor’s fingers still wandering through Loki’s hair. Loki was too tired now to fight against his thoughts, which were running away with him, until they drifted to the ceremony a few weeks ago. The hand stilled, and for a heartbeat Loki feared his thoughts had been read. He’d had his moment, and now it was time for the truth. The frost giant began to tremble in anticipation, at first just gently, but soon the tremors turned into violent shakes.

“Do you wish to tell me now, brother?” Thor tightened his arms around the small form, trying to suppress the shudders. Loki swallowed, trying to hold back the tears he knew were coming. If he was going to admit to this, he could at least do it without turning into a sobbing wreck in front of Thor. If this was going to be the goodbye - albeit not the one he expected - then he could at least take it with a brave face.

“Thor...you know on the day of the ceremony,” he gulped, swallowing the freezing tears. “The frost giants, they did not...Heimdall did not see them...because I was just so...and Odin, _Odin_...I am saying this all wrong.”

“I suggest you start at the beginning, and work from there. It is usually the best way.” Loki tried to interpret the slight pain in Thor’s voice as sarcasm.

He took a deep breath, then let it out again. After the third attempt, Thor brought Loki’s head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbone. He was stalling, and Thor knew it. The Jotun suddenly just wanted to sleep, to sleep forever here on the floor. He found himself again wanting to promise anything if he could just sleep like this, but his bargains were all used up now, and his brother would soon be getting impatient.

“On the day of the ceremony,” he began, moving so he was slightly less comfortable – he didn’t feel he merited the luxury of comfort whilst explaining this. “I was upset. You were always the favourite, I suppose, and I thought I could turn your moment in the sun into one of mine, because you were _always_ in the sun, and do you _know_ how hard it was, growing up with that? And you finally had your ‘big moment’, and I just wanted to...to have mine. I am terribly selfish, Thor, you know that, and I was so _angry_ , when I should have been happy for you, because once again you took the limelight away, and this time I had to take it back...

“So I...I used a glamour and let some Frost Giants in, past Heimdall’s watch, and showed them where the vault was. I told them how to get the casket, but I did not mention the Destroyer, because I did not really want them to take it, I just wanted a moment, and then I would catch them stealing it, and fight them, and at last prove myself worthy of being Odin’s son...of being your brother.”

Thor said nothing, because he sensed that Loki wasn’t finished, and because he didn’t know what to say yet. It hurt, because his brother had always had a skill with words, but this confession was just tumbling forth out his lips with no delicacy. The Thunderer knew that had he wanted to, had he been able to, Loki would have said this in such a way that could convince even Odin that what he did was right, but this time there was no persuasion, no deception, just the truth. Loki didn’t _lie_ to Thor, but he didn’t stop using his way with words on him either. It was odd then, to hear just honesty coming from his brother, and in its way it seemed all the more tangled than if it _had_ been twisted.

“And I did not think it would end up like this, but I just wanted my chance, because you were always the perfect one, and just for once, I wanted to feel that.”

“Are you saying you are not perfect?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thor, I am not anyone’s idea of perfect. I am cruel, manipulative and spiteful, jealous of everything. I have been frowned upon in Asgard since the day I arrived because I look and act like none of you, and now I have found out I am exactly what your people are known to call a monster. I am a runt here on Jotunheim, an embarrassment to my father and something to be mocked by my brothers. I lie, and cheat, and twist people’s words until they don’t know right from wrong anymore. This is probably the first time in a long, _long_ time where I have actually spoken the truth for more than a few sentences.”

“I wish you would not lie to me, Loki. You never used to. What is it now that has changed that, that has made you so much keener to hide the truth from me completely?”

“I just told you the truth. What more do you want?” The Liesmith was on unknown ground now, uncertain of where Thor was going with this.

“I want–” Thor stopped himself. How could he possibly explain this? How could he possibly make Loki see, with his bluntness and fumbling ability with speech, that to him Loki _was_ perfect, and nothing could compare? “I want you to see yourself as I do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, Thor brought the delicate form back close to him. Gently, he lined his lips up with the tip of one pointed blue ear, and whispered, “What was it that you wanted, that day, when you let the Jotuns in?”

“I just told you.” He lacked the venom, but that was because he was exhausted. It had finally hit him – his hunger, his mistakes, and how confused he was at the whole situation, how it shouldn’t be happening like this, but he didn’t regret it, didn’t want it to end, because it felt so _right_ , even if it hurt so much.

“Then say it again; it will make things clearer.”

“I just...I just wanted my chance to be perfect.”

“You are perfect, Loki.”

“I am not.”

“You are perfectly imperfect.”

Those words came so sweetly that Loki couldn’t help melting a little, the tears he had been fighting now flowing freely down his cheeks as he turned around to hug Thor properly, as tightly as he could until he thought he would burst.

“I only ever wanted to be your equal,” he whispered as warm arms tightened around him, lips dusting the top of his head.

“And you are, brother. You are more than that. In so many ways you are more than I am, and you should not forget it.”

Part of him refused to believe it, demanded justification for the claim, but part of him just wanted to hold onto Thor as tightly as he could, and never, ever let go, as long as they lived. He began to shake with sobs again, but Thor just held him, held him until he was finished, and after his eyes had dried up once more, he was pulled even closer than he thought possible until he could feel himself starting to smile. He drew them apart for a moment, warmth bursting inside him when he felt his brother tense in fear that he would break the embrace.

“Thank you, brother. I will not forget it.” Loki brought their foreheads together and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders and linking his fingers behind Thor’s neck. Slowly, he slid back into the hug, feeling Thor’s fingers slide into his hair and lips against his ear. They gently started to rock, a soothing hand rubbing up and down Loki’s back, soft murmurs breathed into his ear.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Neither knew how long they stayed there, but the stars had long moved round the sky by the time Thor scooped Loki up and gently placed him into the bed. He tucked the covers around the soft blue shoulders and made his way towards the door, when a cool hand seized his wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“I cannot stay here, much as I would like to.”

“You are not going to leave me, are you?” Loki’s sleepy voice was tinged with fear, like he’d just had a nightmare and was being told to go back to his own room, it’s safe now.

Thor couldn’t say no to that voice, realising now he wouldn’t really have been able to bring himself to leave anyway. “It is not practical, but I suppose I could sleep on the floor.” The hand still had not let him go, so he turned around to face his brother, everything about whom was pleading him to stay.

“You cannot sleep on the floor,” came the tired response. “There is...well, I just thought...” It may have been the small hours of the morning, and he may have just spent heaven-only-knows how long curled up in his brother’s arms, but Loki was still embarrassed to admit he wanted Thor to crawl in next to him. They hadn’t shared a bed since they were very little, and now things were so much more complicated, yet they could be so simple again, if only Thor went along with this.

“Is there room?” The Jotun relaxed into a grin, releasing the older man’s wrist to gesture at the empty bed space beside him.

“Of course. They got me a Jotun-size bed, even though I am a runt. There’s probably room for three.”

He lifted back the covers and let Thor flip his shoes off before sliding in. At first, they kept to their respective sides, Loki turning his back to his brother, suddenly embarrassed by the whole affair. But soon, he felt tugging at his hair from behind, and turned to capture the hand that was doing the bothering.

“Sorry,” Thor muttered, blushing.

“Don’t be,” Loki murmured, tangling his fingers into soft gold hair. A hesitant arm snaked around his waist and pulled him closer until he could feel the warmth coming off Thor’s body. A blue hand touched the back of his neck, and the Asgardian jumped at the cold.

“...Did I hurt you?” Of course, his skin was still blue, and therefore cold. It was very sweet of Thor to pretend not to notice, but Loki realised he must be causing a lot of discomfort. “Have I burnt you? Because I can s-stop, you can go...if you want...”

A finger was put to his lips. “Not at all, you just surprised me, brother. Your skin is a little cold, is all.”

Slim fingers went up to his left ear, fiddling with the stud there.

“What are you doing?” came the hushed question in response to his fidgeting.

“The...the earring...in this ear...it,” he struggled to unscrew the back whilst trying to stay as close to Thor as possible. “It has a spell on it which keeps me blue. I had it out...when you arrived, so I looked...normal. If I take it out now...” A warm hand slowly lifted his own off his ear and laced their fingers together.

“Do not take it out, I like it. I like you like this. You are beautiful like this. You just startled me. Now stop worrying and try to sleep. I am not going anywhere.”

Loki sighed and nestled closer to his brother. His other hand worked its way to the back of Thor’s head, bringing their foreheads together again. He watched the blue eyes flutter closed and smiled softly to himself. The older man could feel sleep tugging at the edge of his mind, and it was true, he was exhausted. He’d spent a large part of the day persuading Heimdall to send him to Jotunheim – the Watchman was sworn to do the will of the King, and was almost impossible to argue with. He desperately needed to sleep if he was going to stay here tonight; it wouldn’t be easy to stay in the palace if Loki wasn’t there to keep him hidden. Which brought on a whole new line of thought concerning his brother having to leave him in the morning. Which he really _didn’t_ want to think about whilst the delicate creature he loved so much was curled up against him, so very close.

Loki’s breathing deepened slightly. Hesitantly, Thor brought a finger up to trace the raised lines across a smooth blue temple. The head, which had dipped down slightly, tilted up and moved forward. Sleepy scarlet eyes opened a fraction, a long breath escaping from thin lips. The finger gently wove its way down, blue eyes never breaking his brother’s gaze, until it stopped under the sharp chin. The gentlest of nudges had an instant response, and Thor carefully lifted Loki’s face up until he no longer had to look down to keep eye contact. Cool hands tightened behind his head, bringing their faces just a fraction closer, but not close enough; nothing was close enough anymore. It was agonising, but neither quite knew where to go next, because somewhere, deep in the back of both their minds warning bells were screaming that this was wrong, _wrong_ , and they had to stop, to turn around and just go to sleep, before it was too late, and they were too far gone to return to what they were. But they _were_ too far gone, what they were then was nothing, because they couldn’t go back, not any more, not this time. What they _were_ was brothers, but that was just one angle of it, just one fragment, and the role of _brother_ was so limiting, restricting them to only one kind of love when there was so much more to it than that.

One of Loki’s hands glided down to brush a rough cheek and his vision shattered into a million tiny stars. A breath forced its way into his lungs, one he didn’t realise he’d been keeping out, and the world swam. _Not now, not again,_ he whispered to himself, _I don’t want to miss this; I want to remember this for exactly what it is–_

He felt warmth on his lips, spreading all through his insides to the corners of his soul, obliterating any last feelings of regret that lurked inside him, filling him up until he thought he would burst from the wonder of it all, and then everything came tumbling down before him. The chaos and bliss of it all was overwhelming, and Loki could do nothing other than return the favour, desperately trying to become his brother’s equal in this last thing where he felt completely undone. And Thor let him, let him have him, let the love he could feel pouring into him from those sweet first kisses wash it all away, until there was nothing left behind but him and Loki and the magic between them.

His brother’s head tilted slightly, making the angle more comfortable, and they were addicted, incapable of stopping even for a moment what had been hidden inside them for so long. It was who they were, who they’d always been, and nothing short of Ragnarok itself could have separated them.

Thor’s hands slid down smooth sides, pulling Loki towards him, closer than they’d thought possible until they were completely tangled. A moan rumbled its way through Thor’s body and Loki laughed, pulling them apart.

“Honestly, brother, you cannot enjoy anything unless there’s some kind of thunderous noises involved, can you?”

“Who says I was not enjoying it before?” came the answering growl before the cool lips, now thoroughly warmed through, were recaptured in another kiss.

“Well,” Loki brought them apart again and placed a finger on the tip of Thor’s nose to keep him away. “I wasn’t so sure. You seemed a little tense...”

There were quite a few comebacks to that, but instead the Thunderer chose to bat the finger out the way and continue what he’d started, muttering in between kisses things on the lines of:  “Of course I was tense. I have not really kissed anyone quite like that before....”

The scoffing noises that followed were what Thor suspected to be Loki stopping the Aesir accessing his mouth. It was a battle the Jotun would lose, and he knew it, but he managed to catch his brother off guard after choking out “The Lady Sif” as best he could.

“What about Sif?” Thor drew back, his expression guarded, and Loki instantly regretted asking.

“Well, I presume you have kissed her.”

“Yes.” All the tenderness had gone from Thor’s eyes now, and Loki found himself feeling almost afraid.

“Well then...you have kissed someone before...”

“Yes,” Thor said between clenched teeth. He realised where Loki was headed now, and decided to use it to his advantage. “I have kissed someone before, many people in fact,” he grinned to himself at the jealousy he saw flit across his brother’s face, “But never anyone I have loved.”

Dark eyebrows went up for a second time, but this time Loki’s face melted into a soft smile, and he gently brought Thor’s face back to within a breath of his own.

“Are you saying you love me, Thor?” Loki looked up at him through dark lashes in a way that made the Asgardian’s stomach do backflips. His throat began to close up, and he coughed to clear it. The Liesmith smirked, bringing Thor’s lips back onto his own briefly. “Don’t answer then,” he smiled, “but you will not get my opinion through silence.”

One rough hand went up to smooth the soft black hair, and Loki closed his eyes. He felt familiar lips brush beside his ear again and his stomach squirmed. A kiss dusted his cheek, then another just below his ear, and a small moan escaped his throat.

After what seemed like hours, warm breath tickled his ear again, shaping itself into words that tugged at Loki’s heart.

“I am. I do. That is, if you want me to...”

Without a second thought the reply snuck out of the Liesmith’s mouth, “I always want you to.”

“Loki...” But his mouth was busy, working its way over a smooth blue throat, into silky strands of hair, then back to welcoming lips again.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, fluff!

            They fell asleep eventually, but not until they were spent, catching up on lost time and making up for everything. Their kisses changed from innocent explorations to warmer, fiery expressions of passion, and then onto desperate apologies, saying sorry that it was like this, sorry it was this late, sorry for everything.

            Thor had been the first to go, his mind already half in a dream near the end, so he was never entirely sure how much had been real. Loki had stayed awake for a while, fingers weaving in and out of golden hair, forming patterns and breaking them over and over. Eventually though, sleep had overcome him, and he nestled down into his brother’s chest until he felt safe from absolutely everything, and then finally gave in.

            It was early morning when Loki awoke, his slumber interrupted by a loud rumbling noise similar to the sound of a thunderstorm. The first coherent thoughts in his head were that someone was snoring, very loudly, and it was interrupting his sleep. The only people he knew who snored however were Thor, and Helblindi, and he highly doubted his Jotun brother had fallen asleep in his bedchambers.

            He tried to sit up, but found he couldn’t move his limbs very far until they felt like they were being dragged back with an enormous force. Blinking in the light flooding in from the recent sunrise, he turned to look at what was keeping him prisoner. A golden tuft of hair had worked its way across Thor’s cheek and into his mouth, which was open, and also the source of the rumbling snores. Loki pushed himself back towards the headboard in surprise. _What is Thor doing here? And more importantly, what is he doing in my bed on Jotunheim?_ He lifted a hand to his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose when his shoulder brushed one of the small twisty earrings he had forgotten to take out the night before. _These earrings..._

            It suddenly all came rushing back – the not eating, Thor finding the circlet, confessing to letting the Jotuns in, and...

The world lurched, and Loki slid back down onto the pillow.

A few minutes later Thor began to stir, his mouth closing, nestling his head closer to whatever he was holding onto. He was aware he was lying next to something warm, but it wasn’t a pillow, because when he pressed his cold nose into it, it yelped and pushed him away. A sharp poke hit him in the shoulder, and he grumbled, loosening his arms and flopping over onto his back, eyes fluttering open.

“Thank you,” came a disapproving tone from beside him, but with underlying playfulness. A cool blue hand returned his left arm to him and he rubbed it, forcing back the circulation after a night of it being slept upon.

“Mnh...what? Loki? What am I...” Thor shook his head in an attempt to remember how on earth he’d got there, sleep still fogging his mind. He cast a look at his brother, eyes widening in surprise at his skin colour. “You’re blue,” he said bluntly.

“Well observed,” came the reply. He was still waiting for Thor to remember – his brother could be a little slow in the mornings – before he did anything. A sudden panic hit him – what if Thor didn’t remember? What if he thought it had just been some kind of vivid, messed up dream? Or worse, what if Thor did remember, and was disgusted?

There was an awkward silence, in which neither of them knew what to do. Loki wanted to get up and dressed, but he didn’t know if he could muster the energy. The last night had been more draining than it seemed, especially to one who hadn’t eaten for three weeks, and he was painfully aware of Laufey’s request to meet that afternoon. What would he do with Thor while he was out? _If_ he could go out – he suspected that despite the sudden burst of adrenalin he’d experienced a few hours ago, he was probably still too sick to leave his room. Which would mean Laufey would probably try to talk to him there. Which would mean the king would want to talk about his eating, or lack of, and what would he do with Thor whilst his father was here, and he was too ill to hold a spell over someone for more than a few minutes?

Thor was still coming to after his unexpected sleep. There were a lot of things he could dimly recall from the day before, but they were all hazy and uncertain. He cursed himself for being so slow in the mornings – he needed to talk to Loki, had a sudden urge to want an explanation of some kind, or maybe he was supposed to explain? But what about? His brother was sitting next to him on the bed, knees drawn up to his chest, hair sticking up on the side he’d been sleeping on where the wax had set in his slumber. Gradually things became clear, and the Asgardian blushed, remembering what had happened.

Loki was watching Thor out the corner of his eye for some sign that his brother was fully awake and had detangled dreams from reality, something that had always taken him a while, except when they were very young, but that was when dreams were just an extension of the fun of daytime, and separating the two didn’t matter. He saw a flush creep up Thor’s cheeks and knew he’d remembered, hoping it was a good memory, not one that would embarrass and disgust him so he left immediately with the intention of never seeing his brother again.

“Loki...” he began. “Last night...I am not sure how much of what I remember is real. Could you help me?”

“Of course.” It had been something they’d done since Thor turned ten, and had started to see the world as it truly was. He’d still struggled to sort out what was and wasn’t real, and would often employ his younger brother to help him. He would tell Loki what he remembered, and his brother, always more aware than he, and with a much sharper memory, would tell him what did and didn’t happen.

“I-I remember you were ill. And that you are Laufey’s son. And a crown, of sorts – silver, with an ice gem in the centre. Real?”

“Real,” Loki confirmed.

“That you were angry at me, or Asgard?”

“I am angry at Odin, yes.” He didn’t want to think about that now though.

“And...you were upset, because you are a Jotun. You told me not to look at you, that you were a monster. And then I told you...that you were...” he trailed off, looking away in embarrassment.

“Perfect?” Loki offered. “Real.”

“And then you were crying, and I gave you a hug, and put the crown on your head, and we stayed for a long time...and then I put you back in your bed and you asked me to stay, so I said I could sleep on the floor, and you said no, there was room here,” he gestured to the bed. Loki didn’t dare breathe for fear of breaking the spell, hoping, _hoping_ that the next part was remembered too, and that Thor hadn’t tried to blot it from his memory.

“Then, you turned away, and then we were closer again, and then I-I-I...” he couldn’t say it. What if Loki regretted it? He didn’t seem to be shying away, but what if he’d forgotten that part? Somehow though, he dragged up the courage, because not knowing would be even worse, and he so badly wanted to end the tension.

Just as he was going to say it however, Loki sidled closer to him, one blue hand resting on his outstretched leg. He leant in towards Thor, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. It was all right now, because Thor remembered, and he wasn’t angry. It was all going to be all right, they just had to get out of there, and then no-one could stop them.

“I kissed you,” Thor whispered, his face just breaths from his brother’s. Slowly, almost agonisingly so, Loki brought their foreheads together.

“Real,” he murmured, then captured Thor’s lips in a sweet kiss.

A knock on the door made them fly apart, an invisibility glamour instantly falling over Thor. Loki leant back on the bed and felt a warm arm wrap around him. He smiled, then closed his eyes and did his best to change his expression to one of great distress. An invisible finger poked his ribs to get his attention, then drew a question mark on his stomach. The meaning was clear.

“Breakfast,” Loki breathed, glad for once he’d said a soliloquy without the other party hearing it. There was another tap, a sign Thor had heard and understood. The deliverer was the usual maid, whom he’d never actually spoken to. She went over to Loki, reaching to adjust the thin sheet over him, and he froze, aware that if she tried to move the cover she would find it held down by an inexplicable force. He waved his hand faintly and pulled the cover himself, to show he didn’t need the help, and she turned to leave. Once gone, Loki withdrew the spell with a sigh and cast a look at the tray on his table.

“Looks good,” his brother mused, moving over to pull the tray onto the bed. “Can we share?”

“I am not eating here,” Loki explained. “I have not eaten a bite since I arrived, and I do not plan on breaking it just because you are here either. So dive in.”

“You are not eating? Why would you do that to yourself?” Thor’s expression was close to horror, a piece of rich brown bread dotted with seeds halfway to his mouth. He already knew, but decided to play dumb in an attempt at getting a better explanation.

“I am not eating because my father insists I go on tours of Jotunheim all day and I really couldn’t care less. That or he talks to me for hours about things I am not interested in, and starving myself is a good way to get me too weak to leave my room. It is finally working; I am not going to stop now.”

“But if we are to escape, how will you manage it with no strength?” Loki smiled. Typical Thor, always straight to the point.

“Who says I am escaping? I have a meeting with Laufey this afternoon, and you need to get back to Asgard before anyone starts to worry,” he hedged.

“Do not be silly, brother. I am not leaving you behind, not now, not ever. I promised Mother.”

Loki felt his heart darken slightly, and a chill enter his voice. “But you already left me behind, Thor, and now look at me.”

“I know, and I am sorry, and I do not think you will ever really grasp how sorry I am, but right now you need to eat, so we can get out of here.” He continued eating the bread, clearly enjoying himself, but being very careful to split it so there was more than half left behind for his brother. Reluctantly, Loki picked up a piece of bread. It was soft, and still warm. He put it to his lips, Thor’s eyes on him all the time, and took a bite. It felt alien, and he almost forgot how to swallow, but the bread tasted good, and soon he wanted another bite.

“Try th oil, iss bery good,” Thor said around his mouthful. Loki dipped the edge of his bread in the pot of golden oil and nibbled a bit of damp bread, flavours erupting on his tongue. It tasted slightly like lamb, with undertones of herbs and all in all a slippery warmth that contrasted perfectly with the rough sweetness of the bread. Soon the pair of them were filling themselves with warm bread and moving on to the slices of meat and potato-like shapes in the centre. The food wasn’t bad; it was excellent in fact, and it disappeared quickly, leaving behind only one slice of pork.

Loki looked at his brother, mischief dancing in his eyes. He suspected Thor would want him to have it, since he hadn’t eaten in weeks and needed his strength to escape. However he also knew that Thor had a stubborn sense of pride that came with being the elder brother that meant he would want the slice for himself, as a sign of dominance, like how a father is allowed the first piece of bread because he’s the head of the house and he paid for it.

The two of them stared at each other, a battle of wills going on in their eyes, each one trying to figure out the other’s strategy. The end result was for both to lunge for the slice at the same time, each catching one side and bumping foreheads. Thor toppled backwards, Loki falling on top of him, the slice of meat caught between them. The Thunderer started laughing, deep chuckles vibrating through his body as he flipped Loki onto his back and tickled him. The Liesmith yelped, his weakness being taken advantage of, and wriggled around in an attempt to get free, only to have himself stopped by an arm wrapping around his waist. Thor continued to attack his brother, but Loki, taking advantage of the fact that both Thor’s hands were busy, used the opportunity to snatch up the slice and stuff it in his mouth. On seeing his prize disappear between Loki’s lips, Thor lunged forward to try and get it back, his teeth catching the unconsumed edge still hanging out and pulling away. He came back with only a thin sliver of the breadcrumbed edging, and pouted, disappointment clear on his face. Loki giggled, deciding to cheer him up with a kiss, but realising his mouth was full. He swallowed the spicy meat and leant into his brother, preparing an appeasement kiss, but found Thor’s head turned away in mock annoyance. Loki growled, instead kissing the rough stubbled cheek.

“Tease,” he said, unable to hide the mirth in his voice.

“Thief,” came the response, to which he could only agree. “Feeling better, are we?” Thor asked, turning to look at his brother.

“Much,” Loki replied, relaxing against Thor’s stomach. “Now all we need is an escape plan.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

The pair of them had finally managed to pull themselves off the bed fifteen minutes later, the main cause of the delay being that Thor still wouldn’t let his brother give him an appeasement kiss, pretending to be upset his place had been usurped because his inferior younger brother had made off with the last piece of pork.

Loki had dressed himself, then handed some of his spare clothes to Thor, hoping they would fit. His brother managed to put on the belt, cloak and loincloth on his own, but needed some assistance with the skirt-like material that sat underneath the belt. It was awkward, and Loki couldn’t help feel heat rise to his cheeks as he bent down to adjust his brother’s clothing. Once satisfied however, he quickly cast a glamour over Thor who watched in surprise as his skin turned from golden brown to blue.

“How do you live with this?” he asked, incredulous.

“With difficulty,” Loki responded. “I do not have the energy quite yet to make your hair black too, so put your hood up. We need to get to the garden without being noticed, and out the gate. Then you can open the ask Heimdall safely and we will be home.” It was wonderful, to know that he would soon be leaving Jotunheim, hopefully forever, and everything felt _right_ for once. He took Thor’s hand and squeezed it, then opened the door.

“Wait,” his brother said, turning back into the room.

“What is it?” Loki asked, confused.

“Where is your circlet? I want to take it back. I want you to keep it.” If it were possible to call it that, Loki could have sworn he saw Thor blush under his blue skin. The Asgardian rummaged through the bedside table, eventually pulling the glowing silver crown out of the bottom drawer. Carefully stowing it away inside his cloak, Thor shut the drawer and hurried out the room with his brother.

The pair stole along the corridors. It almost seemed too easy – if they could just get to the garden, and out the gate, Thor would be free to ask Heimdall, and they’d be home. Forgetting for a moment the urgency of their mission, Loki pointed out the passageway that led to Laufey’s room, getting his brother to snatch a brief glance at the jewelled door. A dark shape passed in the corner of Loki’s vision, and he realised what he’d done, chivvying Thor along.

 They carried on down, turning corners with care; aware that although it may be a good thing for Loki to be wandering about, curiosities would arrive concerning his hooded companion. Even the briefest flash of Thor’s golden hair would be enough to land the pair of them in unimaginable trouble, and they couldn’t face that, not when they were so close...

The garden was deserted; the flowers were gradually fading as the year waned, and those who tended to them had accepted there was not much to do to salvage them. There was a surprising lack of servants in the surrounding rooms though, even though the library was staffed at all times. Loki didn’t spare the time to wonder though – they were nearly there, at the gate.

Thor was looking around in wonder at the garden. It was pretty, beautiful even, in its way, carefully tended by loving hands and laid out in a way that combined the iciness of the frost giant’s natures with the gentle elegance of tundra flowers. It almost made him sad that he would never see it again, or explore Jotunheim further than what he’d been already shown – it seemed like an attractive place, once you got past the cold.

“Come _on_ Thor,” Loki whispered, the gate now open before them. They hurried out before they could be caught, sprinting for several hundred metres until the gate was only a small mark against the enormity that was the palace.

“Now is your chance.”

Thor turned his head up to the sky and called to Heimdall to open the Bifrost. For a terrifying moment Loki thought it wasn’t going to happen, that they’d be stuck there, soon to be caught by a stray wanderer and dragged back to endure whatever punishment awaited them.

There was a crack, and a huge white bolt of lightning shot down from the clouds. The spell dropped from the Asgardian’s skin, returning him to his normal, bronze state, and Loki laughed in sheer delight that _at last_ , he would be going home.

The pair of them stepped forward into the light, feeling the familiar rush of energy as they were transported back to Asgard.

 


	17. Chapter 17

They arrived in a heap on the floor, not bothering to try for a graceful landing. Thor had landed face down, one arm crushed beneath him, fist digging into his stomach. Loki followed shortly after, sprawling across his brother’s back with a thump, causing the older man to choke out a breath as all the air was crushed from his lungs.

“Loki...ffffff...” he wheezed. His brother just laughed; it was good to be home. Eventually he sat himself up, earning another gasp from Thor, and climbed off. The Thunderer pushed himself onto his knees, chuckling, then tackled Loki to the ground with a growl.

 The sound of a deep cough brought them back, and they looked up to see the Watchman fixing them both with his penetrating amber stare. Thor cleared his throat and shifted, uncomfortable at being caught acting like a child. Loki just stared straight back.

“Welcome back to Asgard, Loki Odinson,” Heimdall said, his deep voice resonating around the room. “As of yet, no-one is aware of your displacement. Nor yours,” he continued, turning to face Thor. “But the Allfather will not be happy once he sees the pair of you. Unless you plan on hiding for the rest of your lives, I suggest you make amends.” He returned his line of vision to other worlds, things beyond either brother’s reckoning.

Reluctantly Thor nodded. He stood up, then offered Loki his hand, which the younger man accepted, pulling exceptionally hard until the Asgardian toppled over again. The Jotun still had his earring in, and thus was still blue, but he didn’t care, he was just happy with everything right now, and being serious seemed foolish, after all, why dampen the mood?

Much to his disappointment though, Thor did not find it funny. He stood back up, yanking Loki to his feet and hurrying over the bridge.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crawls out of internet repellent cave* *throws chapters at people* *crawls into bed to sleep*

Once on the other side, they flattened themselves against the nearest wall. It was all so strange, having to sneak into their home like they were burglars, afraid of being seen. They scooted around to one of the side doors, slipping inside. Carefully they made their way towards the corridor leading to the family rooms.

Odin’s door was open, as was Frigga’s. Thor’s was shut, but that was because he had left it so, to make it look as if he’d been in his room all along. It was surprisingly quiet in the castle; they hadn’t seen a single other person, which was somewhat dissatisfying, considering their efforts at a stealthy entrance. Further along was Loki’s room, into which they both went, shutting the door behind them.

Loki laughed in relief, flopping back on the bed. Thor was pacing in circles around the edge of the blue woollen rug Loki insisted could not be removed from his quarters under any circumstances.

“Why are you so anxious, brother? Is it not good to be home?” he asked, closing his eyes and inhaling the familiar scent of his personal space.

“It is not your home, not yet,” Loki’s smile faded. Thor looked up at him. “You will not be welcomed here until we speak with Odin.”

 The God of Mischief stood up. “Always with _Odin_ , are you not? Always seeking his approval, like some kind of dog, desperate to please its master no matter how hard it is beaten. I thought you wanted this; I thought you were willing to defy your father for this. I should not have allowed myself to hope.”

“I seek out our father’s council because I do not just want you back on Asgard with me, Loki,” Thor’s voice was rising, but suddenly it dropped down to a softer, more pleading tone. “I want you to be accepted here again, and loved, not forever bound to hiding in the dark.”

Loki hissed between his teeth – he knew Odin would not want him back, not after the way he simply sold him in exchange for a fragile peace based on empty threats and fear.

Thor heard the hiss and sighed. It would not be easy to get Loki to face Odin. An idea formed in his mind – Frigga. She and Loki adored one another, and she was wise, and gave good council. He quietly opened the door and looked out to check the coast was clear.

“Loki, come here. We can speak to Mother instead. She will know how to help us.” They slipped out the door and turned left, wandering down to their mother’s room. The pair sat down on the bed, Loki pushing the door to so they wouldn’t be seen by passers-by. Frigga’s room was a pale shade of yellow, with elegantly carved wooden furniture in a rich walnut like wood. The bed had soft golden linens on it, the end covered in a thick burgundy blanket. There was a door which connected the room to Odin’s, to give them space if they needed time apart from one another. Loki drummed his fingers on the edge of the bed, then noticed his skin colour. He began removing his earrings, putting them through the edge of his cape because of the lack of pockets in his clothes. Once the last one was removed and his skin turned to normal colour again, he glanced at Thor, sitting beside him. It struck him that both he and his brother were still in the Jotun clothes they’d escaped him, and he blushed at the amount of exposed skin there was visible.

Thor was waiting, almost frozen still, for their mother to return from whatever she was doing. Every so often he would sneak a glance at Loki, to see how this was affecting him. He nearly jumped when he saw his brother with his usual pale skin back, as he’d grown quite used to the Jotun form.

There was a noise in the corridor, the sound of hushed voices and then a knock, presumably on Thor’s door. After a brief silence, the sound of footsteps and swishing robes came closer again and they both tensed, expecting to be caught at last, when Frigga swept into the room. She ran a hand through her dark blonde hair and made to sit down on the bed, stepping back in surprise when she saw the space was taken.

“Thor...? _Loki_? What are you doing here?” she asked. Her elder son stood up to give her a tight hug.

“I promised I would bring him back for you, Mother, and here he is.”

Frigga sank into the space Thor had recently vacated, wrapping an arm around Loki’s fluff-clad shoulders. He stayed still, refusing to look at anything except the floor, until he was moved up and the great weight of his brother sat down on his other side. He stiffened as he was pulled into an awkward hug sandwich of mother and brother, then relaxed again – it wasn’t worth resisting. Frigga covered his face in kisses, one hand smoothing down his back as she pulled him into her chest for the second hug.

“Welcome home,” she murmured into his hair, fingers fiddling with the ringlets on the ends. Loki pulled away, a lump forming in his throat at the mention of home.

Thor cleared his throat. “I know you are glad to have Loki back with us, mother. However there is a problem, and that is that he is here, not on Jotunheim, where he is expected to be.  It will not be long before his absence is noticed, and then it will be a dangerous situation for Asgard.”

“You must tell your father, Thor. He will know what to do,” Frigga said, taking one of Loki’s hands in both her own.

“Loki does not want to go to Odin. He fears the worst.”

Loki stood up, pulling his hand out of Frigga’s and storming towards the door. “I do not _fear the worst_ , Thor. I know what Odin will say, and I know he will stand by his judgement. It does not _matter_ if you try to persuade him otherwise; he never wanted me and he will never accept me back. Your idea of me being accepted here, of being _loved,_ is just a dream, and we all know it – I have always been second to you, and any friends I had, anyone who claimed to care for me was only saying it to get your approval. Whether you or Laufey tell Odin first, his decision will be to send me back, and no amount of persuasion will be changing that.”

“I agree with Loki. Odin will be angry, beyond angry, when he finds out I have openly disobeyed him and risked war on Asgard again. He will send Loki back without a second thought, and you-I-I do not think any of us could bear that,” Thor said, squeezing his mother’s arm.

“I know, Thor. Odin will do what he deems is right, and that will mean sending Loki back. But we must try, nonetheless, because his council will be valuable and it would be wrong not to tell him. I will speak with him now, and then you will join me, and hopefully we can come to an agreement. I am your mother, both of you, and I love you so much sometimes it makes me want to tear myself apart because it _hurts_ so much. I want nothing more than to have you both here, safe and happy, for the rest of your lives, but that is not how things are supposed to be, I think, and so we must make the best of what we have been given. Odin is wise, and he has the ability to deal with Laufey. He is our best resort.”

She stood and left the room, making for the great hall where Odin was finishing a council meeting concerning trade with the dwarves again. Thor and Loki left after her, heading to Thor’s room so they could change.

“Do not worry, brother,” Thor said, catching Loki’s hand with his own. “It will be all right. Odin will see that you belong here. It will be all right.” The words were empty; both of them knew it, but still Loki shifted their hands so their fingers laced together. He felt his brother give his hand an encouraging squeeze and they turned the corner to face Thor’s door.

Sif was standing outside, knocking repeatedly in an attempt to coax her friend out of his quarters. She’d been there for the past ten minutes, knocking first politely, then angrily, then finally softly, whispering about how she just wanted to know if he was all right, nothing more, just a friendly chat.

Loki was the first to see her, and hissed, retreating back behind his brother’s huge form and the stone wall. Thor looked up in surprise, then tried to follow his brother back around the corner. It was too late: Sif had heard the hiss, and had turned around to see Thor’s startled face slipping back behind the wall.

“Thor!” she exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and annoyance in her tone at finding her friend outside and trying to get away from her. She walked towards him as he backed away, trying to hide Loki from her line of sight with his body.

She finally caught him, one arm gripping his shoulder, and she tried not to stare in utter amazement at his choice of  clothing, which he still hadn’t changed since arriving on Asgard. She beamed at him, delighted to see him out of his room for once, even if it was in...unusual dress...but her smile faded as she saw the figure behind him.

Realising she’d noticed, Thor tried again to position himself in front of Loki as a sort of human shield – he knew Sif and his brother hated each other, and he didn’t want her to express that hatred now.

“Thor? What is the meaning of this?” she asked, side-stepping around him to confirm her suspicions that it was Loki Thor was trying to hide. Seeing that hiding was now futile, Loki stepped out from behind his brother and faced Sif.

“Please excuse us, Lady Sif, but we are trying to get to Thor’s chambers and would appreciate it if you let us pass,” he said, a cold smile planting itself on its face. Her mouth was hanging open, trying to take in what she could see before her, particularly the bizarre clothing and pair of interlaced hands. The three of them stood there, frozen for a moment as time swirled around them, Loki and Sif staring each other down and Thor standing awkwardly between them. He coughed to break the silence, making Sif jump.

She looked down at their hands, then back up at Loki, his words running through her mind over and over, refusing to compute. _Was Thor_ really _like that?_ It didn’t surprise her that much that Loki...but _Thor?_ Shaking her head, she moved to completely block their way back to Thor’s room, placing her hands on her hips.

“You two are going to see Odin _right now,_ whether you like it or not.” She proceeded to herd the two of them back in the direction from which they’d come, not allowing them to stop or protest until they reached the doors of the hall. Sif rapped on the door, all the while keeping an eye on the two men behind her in case they tried to escape.

The door opened to reveal a flustered looking Frigga. “Sif! I’m terribly sorry, but I cannot help you at the moment. I need to find my sons...” The queen was too preoccupied by the sound of Odin calling her back to notice the slip in her words.

“That’s why I am here, Lady Frigga,” Sif began. “I found your son – Loki – with Thor in the palace, and I need to speak to Odin, to tell him...” She trailed off when the grim face of Odin came to the door.

“Sif, you will leave now and come back later. I do not have time for you,” the king said, waving a hand at her. Grumbling at the lack of appreciation for her help, Sif moved behind Thor and Loki, shoving them through the doorway.

“Delivery,” she snarled, slamming the doors behind her.

They stood facing each other in a kind of awkward circle. Sif, Thor and Odin were all bristling with fury; Loki’s face was set in its usual unfeeling defensive mask. Frigga looked worried.

“Thor,” Odin’s voice was low, dripping with restrained anger. “What is the meaning of this treachery?” The question was barely above a whisper but the rest of the room was captivated. Sif decided that she wasn’t going to get her apology any time soon, instead choosing to sit back and watch the show. Trying not to notice the amount of muscle she could see rippling under the tension. The silence would have been awkward, except for the electricity in the air which was partially caused by the extreme family tension, and also because Thor was having difficulty controlling his powers.

“I,” Thor began, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead, Frigga stepped forward and put a hand on Odin’s shoulder.

“It is as I was trying to explain to you, Odin. Thor brought Loki back because it was what he thought was _right_. Your son was only trying to keep his loved ones together, and happy.”

“If he wants to be a good king, he must learn that personal needs come after the needs of the kingdom. Risking war with Jotunheim because he misses his brother is not an action a good king would take,” Odin replied through clenched teeth.

“Odin, he is _trying_! You are not exactly helping, by tearing our family apart! I do not think any of us has made a wise decision since Loki’s banishment, because we’re all too busy grieving. Try to understand–” She stopped talking, as if suddenly aware of all the other people in the room. Loki kept his poker face in place, but secretly he was furious that all this had happened behind his back, and that Odin was still set on his precious peace. Neither brother appreciated the way their parents were talking about them as if they weren’t there, but it was clearly angering Thor more than Loki, who knew this would come; Thor was always too trusting, and had far too much faith in his father.

“I will not hear of it. My decision still stands. Loki will be sent back to Jotunheim as soon as possible, and Thor, you will not be permitted to use the Bifrost again, until there have been further negotiations. There will be no further discussion on this.” The Allfather turned to stride from the door on the far side of the room but was stopped by his son’s voice, loud and clear in the tense silence.

“Loki is not leaving Asgard.”

Slowly Odin turned round, his face livid. Sif perked up – she had feared there would be no excitement from this discussion after all, but now things might just get interesting.

“What did you say to me?”

“Loki will not be leaving Asgard again.” Thor repeated. He was standing rigid, arms by his sides and fists clenched, clearly trying to stop both reaching out to defend his brother and causing a thunderstorm inside the room.

“This is not something you can decide, Thor. You have already proved to me your decisions are childish and immature, not what I would expect of a future king _or_ a ruling one. Any opinions you have are invalid,” Odin said. It pained him to speak so strictly to his son, but he must be educated that he could not keep Loki just because he wanted to – there were greater concerns at hand, such as trade to keep the kingdom in plenty, and the risk of war.

“I am not seeking to decide it, father. I am stating Loki’s opinion on the matter, since even if I can have no say in it, he can, and you will not listen to him.” Thor’s voice was steady; Loki took it as his cue to gracefully step forward, beginning to walk in dizzying circles that he found helped persuade people to follow his will.

“Ah, yes, Odin Allfather, here your son has a point. He may need have no involvement in this whatsoever, but as it is my life you are defining, and me you are banishing away, I surely deserve a say? And my personal opinion is that, as much as I find parts of Jotunheim agreeable, I do not appreciate the way I am treated there, and would much rather stay in Asgard. Here at least I am treated like proper filth, not spoilt into believing they care about me just because of my status.” He knew full well that was exactly what happened on Asgard, but he was hoping he had distracted Odin from realising that with his pacing. It usually worked.

The Allfather’s mouth was set in a grim line as he watched Loki walk back and forth in front of him. It was a habit he had, a means of distraction, but Odin was used to his foster son’s tricks after years of raising him, and so would not fall for it. His wife was looking worried, shooting glances first at Odin, then at Loki, uncertain of where her loyalties lay. Sif was all but forgotten.

“I stand by my choice. Loki, you will be sent back to Jotunheim through the Bifrost tomorrow at sunrise. Thor, you will be...” he hesitated, looking at his elder son properly for the first time since he’d arrived. “Where is your armour?” he asked, incredulous.

The Thunderer blushed slightly, looking down at the floor and shifting uncomfortably. “I left it on Jotunheim. It was not practical to take it with us on our escape,” he explained.

Odin sighed. “Well, I suppose it can always be remade. I expect you to change out of that ridiculous clothing once I have finished with you though. And furthermore, I will arrange for you to have your armour remade and fitted tomorrow morning, while Loki is being removed.”

Thor’s jaw clenched, his thoughts racing. _How can he say ‘removed’ just like that, like my brother is some kind of pox to be eradicated? How foolish was I to think he would give Loki a second chance?_

“You are also forbidden to use the Bifrost. There will be a permanent watch set up, and if you should try another way of getting out of Asgard, I shall know. You have tonight to say your farewells.” He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the rest of his family and Sif to compose themselves.

Loki arched an eyebrow, unsurprised by the entire ordeal, except perhaps that his pacing hadn’t worked quite as well as he’d thought. Frigga gracefully walked towards him, wrapping him up in a hug.

“I suppose this is goodbye then, my son,” she whispered, and he gently returned her embrace. “I have things to attend to, and I do not expect I will be able to see you before the morning. I wish you a safe journey, and do not forget that wherever you are, and whoever your blood parents claim to be, I am your mother and I will love you always.”

“Thank you, Frigga. Your blessing perhaps may make the return easier, but I do not think the journey is my concern.” He was trying so hard to fight it, but in the end Loki had to give in, and release a soft sob into her shoulder, because she _was_ his mother, and she adored him, and he would never forget all the things she had done for him when it seemed he had no-one else to turn to. “Farewell, Mother,” he murmured, squeezing her once before letting her go. She put her hand on his shoulder, warm against his cool skin, and looked at him one last time, as if burning the image into her memory forever. Then Frigga turned and swept out of the same door as Odin.

Sif was staring at Thor, unnoticed by anyone. He was beyond furious. He looked like he was going to explode – everything about him spoke anger, but underneath was a deep, soul-crushing sadness, that once again he’d got it wrong, and now everyone was going to suffer because of it. Loki looked at him, extending a hand in a signal that he was leaving, inviting his brother to follow. Thor looked at it for a fraction too long, so that Loki rolled his eyes and began to leave before his brother could compute enough to catch him up. The pair of them left to make preparations, leaving Sif alone. Uncertain of what to do, she went off in search of Hogun, someone she knew she could trust with this.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Loki went back to his room, aware that Thor was following him. Once he had arrived, he began packing his most essential items – things he hadn’t had the luxury of bringing the last time. His circlet sat discarded on the bed where Thor had left it upon their arrival. He made to stow it away, but a hand stopped him. He looked up.

“Please, leave that. They can always make you another. I want to keep it. As-as a reminder. Of you.” Loki could tell his brother was breaking inside – Thor had never been good with words, but his sentences only really lost structure once he was getting emotional.

“Thor, I think it would be best if I just took everything and left. I may even go tonight – that will probably please Odin,” - _the only thing I’ve ever done to please him_ , he thought. “A clean break will heal fastest.”

It was getting hard to reason, and harder to keep down the mask when inside he knew exactly what Thor was feeling, because it was breaking his own heart too. He forcefully placed the silver crown inside his bag, wrapping it up inside a scarf he’d had since childhood. A scarf Frigga had given him...

It was too much, too soon, to endure leaving all over again, but this time with all the extra pain that came with goodbyes. Thor was sitting down on the bed with his hands clasped, not looking at anything except the treasured blue rug. It might have ended up in his room after that.

“...I...have to go,” Loki whispered, slinging the pouch over his shoulder and making for the door. A warm hand grasped his wrist – the perfect reversal of roles from the night before, when he’d insisted Thor stayed with him. He should have said no, should have let him go while he had the chance; that way he would still be curled up in a bed on Jotunheim, too sick to move and none of this heartbreak would have happened.

“Stay, please.”

“Thor, I _can’t_. You know I can’t. A clean break will be better for–” He couldn’t finish it though, because they both knew it wasn’t true. Memories were precious. They needed holding on to, and something, even the smallest of tokens, could make the loss easier to bear. After all, wasn’t he taking the scarf? He carefully took the circlet back out of his bag, pressing it into his brother’s hands before turning to leave again, unaware his hand was still captured. He felt the pull and tried to free himself, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Let me go,” he said, knowing it was useless.

“You have not said goodbye yet. How can I let you go?” Thor looked up at him, his eyes starry with tears, and smile wrenched onto his face. His voice began to shake along with the rest of his body, and it took all the dark and angry thoughts he could find for Loki not to just kiss him, then and there, and never move again from that room until time ended and the world came down. “H-How can you leave me, without saying goodbye? Because I’d h-hate myself, not-not knowing when I will see you again, and n-not having said goodbye,” Thor said, glistening tears openly rolling down his face and getting tangled in his rough stubble.

“I-” the words stuck in Loki’s throat, and instead he leant over to dust a kiss on his brother’s cheek, trying to force the word goodbye out past the lump in his throat, but he couldn’t do it. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut, gently prizing his other hand free, and squeezed Thor’s hand. It was the closest thing to a goodbye he was going to manage. But to Thor it was not sufficient.

“You-you s-stay, you stay until you say it, and I won’t l-l-let you l-leave me, not until you d-do...” he whispered, struggling to stop his voice from shaking, trying to pull Loki closer so he could whisper into his hair. The Liesmith knew it wasn’t going to happen though, considering the ease with which he’d freed his wrist earlier.

He didn’t have the heart to go, couldn’t leave his brother like this, so weak, so open. He moved over to sit by Thor, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and resting their heads together.

“It will be all right, Thor. I have magic – they may not let you leave Asgard, but I will find a way back: they cannot keep me there forever. They cannot force feed me – if I can, I will make myself ill enough they only people that can help are here, and then I will have to come back, won’t I? I promise you I will see you again, so this is not really goodbye, is it?

“It is only like...do you remember how I always used to run away as a child, because I was angry at something or other...”

“And I would always find you, hiding somewhere in the palace,” Thor finished.

“It would drive Mother crazy with worry, and Odin was never impressed, but it was all right, because you would find me, and if I had not burnt out my fury by then you would let me take it out on you until I had.”

“I remember.”

“So think of it like that – like I have run away, and all you need to do is find me.”

“We are not children any more, Loki. I cannot come and find you. I cannot leave Asgard.”

“Then this time, you must wait for me to come back to you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *winces at the flaws in this story*  
> But I do like that end scene.


	20. Chapter 20

It was just before dawn when Sif was sent to rouse Loki for his journey. She knocked on Thor’s door first, to see if he was in his room or not. At the lack of answer but obviously closed door, she presumed he was sleeping off the previous day’s drama. Making her way to Loki’s quarters, she knocked on the door, softly calling that it was Sif, and time to leave. There was also no reply from this room, but as she moved to rap at the door again, it opened slightly. Knowing she should respect Loki’s privacy, Sif stopped, but curiosity got the better of her and she stepped inside.

There was a bag by the door: Loki’s provisions. That was not what caught her attention though. On the double bed lay two sleeping gods, tangled up in one another. She couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, so complete was their embrace, but the thing that bothered her was the nagging suspicion she already knew of this. Memories made their way to the surface – of when she’d first found them, and they had been holding hands. _But, they’re brothers_ , she tried to reason. _Brothers can do that kind of thing..._ She stopped. This was stupid. _No brothers I ever knew of got_ that _close when sleeping. But that could only mean..._

Sif hurried out the door to fetch Odin.

 


	21. Chapter 21

The sound of footsteps was enough to pull Loki out of his dreams. He’d been restless most of the night, sleeping lightly and in brief snatches. He lifted his head up to look at the door, starting when he saw it was wide open. _Someone came in. Someone came to fetch me and they saw! They saw us!_

He turned back over to look at his brother, breathing softly beside him. There were tear tracks still staining his cheeks, but at last he looked at peace. Loki stroked a hand over the soft hair, leaning forward to place a kiss on Thor’s forehead before climbing out of the bed, grabbing his bag and leaving. He hurried to the Bifrost alone, thoughts flying through his head at light speed. He was so distracted he didn’t notice when he nearly ran straight into Odin, Sif and Frigga, rapidly heading in the opposite direction to where he’d come from.

“Sorry!” he blurted, trying to dodge round them.

“Loki?” Odin said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Odin?” he turned around, cold demeanour instantly replacing his flustered worry. “I was just heading to the Bifrost actually. To get this over with as fast as I could...”

“Where is Thor, Loki?” the Allfather asked.

“He’s...still asleep, I believe,” Loki replied, watching carefully as the three of them glanced at one another. “Why?”

“I have been... _informed_...that there is a supposed ‘change’ in your relationship.” Sif tried not to look guilty, but it was obvious who had told Odin. All the blood drained from the Liesmith’s face as he realised. They’d crossed the line. No matter what he did, no matter how ill he made himself, there was no way he would be permitted to Asgard again. He would be separated from his family forever, in an attempt to destroy the terrible feelings that had arisen between him and his brother, and to retain the Asgardian royals’ reputations.

“You were seen...‘together’...in your room,” Odin made no attempt to hide the disgust in his voice, struggling to find the words to describe exactly what he’d been told. Loki wondered how Sif had got it out in the first place. “Sharing a bed, and asleep, in a way that is inappropriate for brothers. Could you explain yourself, and why you have brought dishonour on my family and my son? Is this your one last attack on us: did you plan to go out with a bang, and this is it?” His voiced had dropped to a harsh whisper, almost a hiss, quiet and terrifying.

“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bluffed, hoping he could just escape and end it all.

“Do not lie to me, Loki Laufeyson! I don’t know what you did to him, but I will _not_ tolerate such behaviour! You are not only to be removed from Asgard to prevent war, but are hereby banished, forever. The consequences of an attempt at return will be dire.”

Frigga looked stricken, but bravely put a smile on her face and began to walk with Loki to the Bifrost. He threw the filthiest look he could muster at Sif before turning back and striding onward towards the bridge. As they reached the end of the corridor, they heard the sound of quiet footsteps shuffling along a way behind them, and a soft call.

“Loki?”

Thor looked rotten, huge bags under his eyes which suggested his sleep hadn’t been any more restful. He was wearing a baggy leather tunic that hung skewed from one shoulder, his left arm poking through the neck hole. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he only had one sock on. It looked like he’d dressed in his sleep.

Loki kept his back to his brother, but the rest turned to look at the source of the voice.

“Thor, go back to your room. Sif, please stop him from following us,” Odin instructed. The warrior hastily went to Thor, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder which was immediately shrugged off.

“Where are you going?” Thor brushed past Sif, who despite her instruction no longer had the heart to restrain Thor.

“It is none of your concern. Go back to your room, and I will speak to you once we are done. Sif,” he warned. She grabbed onto the huge arm and set her feet straight down, planting herself immovable.

“Loki?” Thor asked again, voice cracking, rough with pain. He gulped, desperate for his brother to turn around and look at him, _anything,_ as long as he could say goodbye for the last time. No response. “Where are you taking him? _Answer me!_ ”

“Thor, you will not be going anywhere with him. _Ever_. Your time together is up, and you are no longer being asked, but _ordered_ to return to your quarters and wait for me there!” Odin shouted, blasting Thor back with a beam of magic and ushering his wife and foster son out to the bridge. The magic formed a kind of web around Thor, trapping him until a pair of guards arrived and managed to restrain him with their own force. He didn’t struggle, only shifted himself so he could extend an arm behind him in the direction of his room and felt the familiar tug that came with calling Mjolnir. The hammer slammed into his palm a few seconds later and he twisted with the momentum, knocking the first guard flat on his back and the second sprawling on the floor a few yards away. He turned to face Sif, but her expression was one of such fear and regret that he only glowered at her before setting off in hot pursuit of the others over the bridge.

Once at the Bifrost, Odin spoke a few brief words to Heimdall, who drew his sword ready to set it into the centre of the room. Frigga was saying some last goodbyes, glad she had in fact got the opportunity to say them. There was a loud crashing sound, and heavy footsteps approaching, but none of them realised what it was.

“It is time for you to leave, Loki Laufeyson. May you never take the risk of return.” Heimdall raised the sword, both hands gripping the enormous hilt and lifting high above his head.

“Loki, no!” Thor’s shout resonated around the room, making them all stop to look. He charged into his brother, not managing to stop before he crashed into him. Quickly he righted both of them, then placed himself between father and brother, a look of defiance on his face.

“You will not hurt him again,” he thundered.

Odin’s fist clenched, blue and red hovering around it as he summoned magic to his hands ready to take his son away from the smaller man behind him. Loki tapped Thor’s shoulder in warning, but his brother took no notice.

“Step away, Thor. This is not your business.”

“He is _my_ brother you are sending away, father, even more than that! How can it _not_ be my business?” Thor roared.

“Oh yes, I have heard all about your little _tryst_ , son, and I cannot believe you could consider such a thing acceptable! Now _step away!_ You have had more than enough opportunity to say goodbye!” he spat, knocking his son aside so he could drag Loki to the correct spot from which he’d be transported.

Thor hurled his hammer at his father, summoning it back straight away and ignoring Frigga’s gasp of horror as she rushed to her husband’s side. He then threw it at the sword, knocking it out of Heimdall’s hands and onto the floor. He grabbed his brother’s arm and wrapped it round his waist, using his free hand to pick up the sword and shove it down. There was a brilliant flash of light, and they were gone.

Odin pulled himself to his feet, rubbing his shoulder where it had been hit by Mjolnir. Heimdall seemed unhurt, but somewhat shocked about the whole affair.

“Where are they?” Odin demanded, staring at the Watchman with pure uncontrolled fury and desperation. “Where have they gone?”

“I cannot see them, Odin Allfather. I was preparing a journey to Jotunheim, but it was interrupted when Mjolnir hit my sword. I do not know where they have been sent,” Heimdall replied, back to his usual serene self as he gazed, searching the heavens for the brothers.

“Then for Valhalla’s sake _look for them_!” Odin shouted, his voice breaking as his throat constricted in fear. “You _must_ know where they are – you see _everything_ Heimdall!”

“Hush, hush, Odin. They will be all right. They are together, they will be fine. It will be all right,” Frigga said, a soothing hand rubbing up and down the Allfather’s back. “They will be all right.”

Odin straightened, his face setting again. “I expect we will have to tell the court of this,” he muttered.

“Yes, of course we will. But don’t worry about that now. What we need is some food, and then we can talk this over together, to sort it all out.”

“Thor’s friends will want to know.”

“Of course they will. We’ll tell them once we have eaten. But come now, let’s go and get some breakfast,” she said, guiding him out of the building and over the bridge to the palace.

After they had eaten, and Odin had suitably calmed down, he summoned the Warriors Three and Sif to his room, to tell them what had happened. He decided to be completely honest, getting Sif to help with some of the explanations, but once it was over the three men just looked at him and nodded, grief written all over their faces.

“I never thought that Thor would do something like that. He and Loki...they never seemed to get on well after Sif...after everyone’s feelings got complicated,” Fandral said.

“I think it was the first separation though, that started it,” Sif admitted. She realised it had just been Loki’s pranks in the early days of their hatred, but there had been honesty there. “Thor had always adored him, trying to include him in everything we did. I found it highly annoying, and I think Loki did too, but Thor could never see when he’d gone too far, because he was just desperate to have the two halves of his life working together in harmony: he couldn’t see the cracks.”

“I liked Loki, a lot. I shall miss him, as well as Thor,” Volstagg said, and it was true, he had liked Loki. It was just that Loki was choosy with the people he liked back.

“...Were they always in love, though?” Sif asked, and everyone went quiet, afraid of answering the big question, and talking of the unspeakable.

It was Frigga who spoke up in the end. “I don’t think so. I believe that Thor was uncertain of his place in the world of romantic love, and Loki feared no-one would ever want him, so he built a shell for himself that meant no-one could get in and break his heart. But in the end, they both turned towards each other, first to confide in, but then their trust grew, and they began to see more in one another than perhaps they should have, and before even they knew it themselves the seeds of love took root.

“It made them angry, and jealous, and they didn’t know how to act around one another, afraid the other would find out and be disgusted. But sooner or later it was bound to happen, and no amount of distance was going to stop that, as we have seen.”

“But...they were brothers,” Fandral stated, uncomprehending.

“Indeed they were, and as good parents we should have taken the initiative to separate the two once the first signs started appearing. There were other things to deal with; it kept being put off until it was too late, and then Loki was left on Jotunheim, and Thor went to rescue him, and any chance we might have had was over.”

Hogun, the only one who hadn’t spoken yet, softly asked, “But, Lady Frigga, how do you know this?”

She laughed softly, a sad smile alighting on her face. “I am their mother, Hogun. What kind of mother would I be if I couldn’t read my own sons like books? Come now, though. I think it is time we all took some lunch.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody look at me *hides*


	22. Chapter 22

It was dark when they landed, in a broad expanse of grass, turned brown and coarse by hours of hot sun and lack of rain. It was more graceful than when they’d arrived on Asgard, despite the rushed nature of the journey, with both of them ending up upright, only stumbling into one another in the impact.

A streak of pale blue ran along the edge of the horizon and some of the stars had faded – they judged it to be pre-dawn in whatever realm they had landed in. About one hundred yards away to their left was a clump of bushes, out of which stumbled a ragged looking man who stumbled off in the direction of the edge of the field, chuckling softly to himself.

They both looked around, trying to gather a sense of the area when a loud rushing noise came from their right and they turned to see a flash of light shoot past, red and white and orange flashing.

“Where are we?” Thor whispered, almost rhetorically as he tightened his hold around his brother.

“By process of elimination I make it to be Midgard. And by that I mean it is nothing like the other eight realms, and Midgard is the only one I’ve heard of with noisy metal machines that light up.”

“Midgard is a big place,” Thor said, looking for another person they could ask. He spotted a man hunched over several yards away and made towards him, still holding onto Loki as if for dear life. “Excuse me, friend, but could you tell us whereabouts we are?”

The man raised his head to study whom was addressing him, then turned back to his lighter and blackened spoon. Loki bent down and put a hand on his shoulder, turning the man round to face him.

“My brother asked you a question. He is not one to go unanswered,” he hissed, his eyes gleaming with silent threats. The man burbled something and looked back at his spoon; the grip on his shoulder tightened and he sighed, opening his mouth to let out a vague warbling noise that the two brothers realised was meant to be a song. They only caught a snatch of the lyrics, but what words they could understand went something on the lines of “ _Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves..._ ” It was the best answer they were going to get, so they let the man go back to his spoon and walked towards the fence.

“Britannia...I believe that is a Midgardian kingdom now known as England, Land of Angels,” Thor mused, scratching his head. Loki didn’t say anything. They left the field, crossing the road outside the fence and heading to the nearest building they could see with lights, a shop with a sign reading ‘Salvation Army’. Just outside they stopped, and Loki looked at his brother.

“Of all the stupid things you have done, Thor, this is the worst. What were you thinking, sending us here? We could have landed anywhere, we could have ended up stranded on Svartalfheim, or worse! We are not going inside until you explain _what was going through your mind_ when you shoved that sword in and sent us flying into oblivion.”

“I was thinking that I needed to get you away from Odin, and safe with me, and the only way to do that was to take a gamble on where the Bifrost would send us. I did not want to see you sent away again.”

Loki smiled at that, leaning in to give his brother a brief kiss, pulling away just before he was tempted to carry on for at least fifteen minutes.

“Come on then, let’s go inside.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so British it hurts orz


	23. Epilogue: Part 1

Jane Foster had signed up to the Salvation Army some three weeks ago, the motivation being that on her departure to work one morning, she had found a homeless person sleeping in her doorway. She’d been living in England for nearly two years, transferring from the States for a hasty work deal that meant studying the aurorae would be easier. When she received a letter asking if her spare room was available for a pair of young men to use, later to rent once one of them earned an income, she decided to visit her local branch to find out what ‘available’ actually included.

The shop was quite large, with a low ceiling and it stretched back quite a distance, furniture and assorted tat stacked high on shelves. Jane went up to the desk where a young woman with white-blonde hair was checking for something underneath the till. She seemed engrossed, so Jane drummed her fingers on top of the counter and coughed, hoping to get her attention. Her head shot up, and she smiled, fluffing up her fringe with one hand.

“Can I help you at all?” she asked, and Jane rummaged through her bag for the letter.

“Um, yeah, I got this letter in the mail yesterday, asking about my spare room, and I was wondering what that would involve,” Jane answered, handing over the letter. The woman read through it and nodded.

“Yep, they’re just upstairs. If you want to come with me, I’ll take you to meet them. Oh, there’s one thing I should, uh, mention first – it might affect your decision is all,” she blushed, clearing her throat. “They’re sort of, _together_ , you know? It’s stupid I know, but it bothers some people so I thought I’d just say.”

Jane let it sink in for a moment before nodding. “Oh that’s fine,” she said. “I’ve got a couple of friends like that, so maybe it’ll be nice for them to have something in common.”

They both headed up the stairs, Jane looking around as they went up two flights of stairs.

“So is this whole place apartments for the homeless?” she asked.

“Well, not always proper hobos, no. Sometimes we have people who need an escape from a rough household for a bit, but mostly yeah. We don’t have enough room for everyone though, so we generally only take in those who come to us, and we try to get them staying with other people as quickly as possible.” The girl stopped outside a door labelled ‘Room 24’ and gestured towards it. “This is them,” she explained. “They’re both lovely guys, if a little odd, and don’t be surprised by how they speak.”

“How long have they been staying here?” Jane asked, curious as to why such people were still in charity apartments.

“Around a month. One of them is doing a vocational course at the local college, in mechanics or something. The other is trying to get a better job – he’s sharp as a knife, but no qualifications, so it’s been a fight. We tried several of our other members before you, knowing you only had a small room, but most of them said no.”

Thor was sitting on the tiny bed, his back against the wall. Loki was in his lap, trying to read a book on thermodynamics, but it was difficult with his brother constantly plaiting and unplaiting his hair behind him. He’d cut the ringlets off as soon as possible, especially when the girl in the shop had mistaken him for a woman, but it had upset Thor, so he’d let his hair grow back out. It now brushed just a few inches beneath his collar, and Thor adored it, endlessly braiding it as a way of relaxing.

Loki turned around, accidentally pulling his hair out of Thor’s grasp, earning himself a disgruntled mew.

“Sorry, but I cannot study with you constantly pulling on my hair like that. Don’t you have a diagram to copy or something?”

“I will do it later,” Thor retorted. “Right now, I want you to talk to me.”

“Thor, we are never going to get ourselves a decent life here if you do not try to help yourself get a job!” Loki scolded, giving in when he saw his brother’s expression. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Home. Midgard. Anything.” His hands found their way back into his brother’s hair, and Loki leant back on his brother’s shoulder. It was pointless trying to stop him – Thor was still stricken about leaving Asgard and his family. It got him very low at times, and the only thing that could soothe him was to play with Loki’s hair. The Liesmith began talking about the only thing he could think of – his physics studies. After fifteen minutes Thor stopped, instead putting his arms around Loki’s waist and pulling him close. He placed a kiss in his brother’s hair and started to nuzzle the back of his head.

“Had enough of physics then?” Loki smiled, twisting round to face Thor.

“No, I just got distracted,” he replied, batting Loki’s nose with his finger.

“By what?”

“You,” Thor said, silencing any responses with his mouth. Loki’s eyes fluttered closed and he wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck to make it more comfy. They drew apart to touch foreheads, and Loki placed a light kiss on the edge of Thor’s mouth.

“Sometimes I wonder why I love you, you know. You have the attention span of a fly,” he joked. Thor growled, and made to kiss him again, but there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Loki said, climbing off the bed and making his way to the door. He opened it to see two women standing outside, one of whom was unfamiliar. “Hello, Sidra. What can I do for you?” he smiled pleasantly at the blonde girl in charge of the shop, warily eyeing the woman behind her.

“Hi Loki!” she said brightly. “Remember I was talking about finding you somewhere else to stay, with one of our patrons? This is Jane Foster – she has a room available that you two can use. Can we come in?”

“Of course. I will just tell Thor to tidy up a bit.” He went back inside, pushing the door to and Jane could hear the sounds of a table being dragged across the floor and pillows being flumped up. Loki came back to the door, gesturing for them to come in.

It was a small room, with a single bed opposite the door and a window next to it. There was a coffee table in front of the sofa, which had a duvet thrown over it and two pillows resting on the arm. A door on the other side of the settee led to a tiny bathroom with toilet, sink and shower cramped together with barely space to turn between them. It was really a single room, but it had been the last available and the brothers had been more than happy to work it out between them. A half eaten bag of crisps lay on the table and various coursework books were on the desk in the corner.

Loki pushed the duvet aside and directed them to sit on the sofa, pulling up the chairs to sit opposite them. Jane watched as a tall blond man came and planted himself down next to Loki, smiling vaguely at herself and Sidra. She leant forward and extended her hand, shaking first Loki’s, then Thor’s in greeting.

“The Lady Sidra has said you are willing to let us stay in your house. This is a great debt we will owe you, as we owe her,” Thor said, staring at Jane with intensity. Sidra giggled at the term, and Jane finally realised what she’d meant about ‘how they spoke’.

“Yeah, I have a room you guys can use. It’s not big, and you won’t get your own bathroom, but we should be able to make it work,” she replied, blushing under the gaze.

“Thor is studying mechanics at the school just a brief walk from here. Is your house close enough to walk from?” Loki asked.

“It’s a bit of a trek, but yeah, it should be fine. Shouldn’t be more than about fifteen minutes either way. What do you study, Loki?”

“I am trying to get a job in the physics sector, but I have no formal qualifications, so it has been proving difficult.”

“Well, my job is basically physics, so maybe you could help me out a bit, and that could count as paying your rent.”

“That is a very kind offer, Lady Jane, and I would be honoured to take you up on it,” Loki smiled. “I would offer you a drink, but we have no way of preparing one, so please forgive our rudeness.”

“Oh that’s fine, really,” Jane said, somewhat awkwardly. “I’ve just had a coffee, actually.”

“Well, if you three are all OK with living together, I’ll just go get the forms and then you can move out.” Sidra got up and left, hurrying down the stairs to get the paperwork.

The silence was awkward while she was gone, so Jane took advantage of it to study her housemates-to-be closer. Loki was wearing a grey t-shirt with a green and white check shirt over it, and dark jeans. Thor was in a long sleeved red top and cargo trousers. She couldn’t help but notice how much muscle she could see underneath his shirt, particularly in the sleeves. She found herself thinking _if he wasn’t already taken..._

Sidra returned with a pile of papers and a couple of biros. She handed one form to Jane, who starting filling out basic information such as name, age, and date of birth. Loki took his forms over to the desk and began to complete them for both himself and his brother. Thor wandered over to him, picking up his right hand from where it held the paper still and linked their fingers.

“It will be nice to have someone to stay with,” he said, watching his brother fill out their details as best he could without admitting how old they really were.

“Mmmm.” Loki kept writing, his hand held high above the page to avoid smudging. “If you insist on keeping that hand captive, could you at least hold the page down? It is hard to keep it still whilst writing.”

Jane shot a glance over to them, catching the thread of the conversation, and found it slightly adorable that they were holding hands. She gave her papers to Sidra and smiled, trying to keep listening to what they were saying.

Loki’s voice dropped to a whisper. “What do I put as my surname? Laufeyson?”

“You are Loki Odinson,” Thor whispered back. “But I suppose we must not be seen to be brothers here, or our relationship will be questioned. Put Laufeyson.”

They both looked at Jane, aware she was listening to them talk, but she seemed not to have heard them. Once Loki was done, he too gave his form to the blonde girl. She tapped them on the table, lining up the edges, and stood up.

“Right, well, if you two just want to pack yourselves up, we can get going. That is, unless you need to get anything ready, Ms Foster?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just need to sort out beds, and I think you guys could help me with that?” She giggled nervously. “Shall we wait outside?”

“That would be good, just while we pack up, yes,” Loki said, opening the door for them. The two women waited outside, listening to the sounds coming through the door.

They didn’t have much to pack, only the clothes Sidra had found for them in the donations bag, the few things Loki had brought for his intended trip to Jotunheim, and the circlet, which Loki still didn’t know how Thor had brought along. They managed to fit it all in Loki’s bag and a rucksack Thor had been using for his college books. It only took ten minutes before they were ready to leave.

Sidra said a fond farewell, and they both promised they would come back and visit her, hopefully with donations to make up for their stay once they had jobs. The walk to Jane’s house took seven minutes. It was a terrace with a large bay window on two floors and a small attic room visible from the outside. The small front garden contained a range of pot plants, some flowering in bright colours. She led them inside down a narrow hall and into the living room, which had a TV, two sofas and a fireplace. The bay had been made into a seat too, with pale blue cushions on top of white-painted wood.

“It’s not exactly a palace, but it’s home,” Jane said, watching their expressions carefully.

“Oh, I think we have had enough of palaces, Lady Jane,” Loki commented. “This is more than enough.” Jane gave him a funny look, but got no explanation.

“Could we see our room?” Thor asked.

“Of course! It’s just up here...” She took them up the stairs, past the master room with the bay and into a side room. It had a bed against one wall and a bedside table next to it, with a wardrobe next to the door. It was a moderately sized single, and a double bed could fit at a squeeze.

“The red couch downstairs is a bed as well – if you could help me bring it up we can use that instead. If you don’t mind sharing a bed...” she went slightly pink as she spoke, uncertain of where she stood in talking about their relationship.

“We have been sharing a bed for the last month at least,” Thor said unabashedly. Jane tried not to imagine how two fully grown men managed to fit on the same bed in that tiny Salvation Army flat, and realised the bedding on the sofa there had been just for show.

“Well, I need a coffee, so if you want to unpack or whatever, and then we’ll sort the sofa. Drinks?”

“I would like a cup of tea, if you have any, and Thor takes white coffee,” Loki said, smiling at her. She swallowed under his gaze, wondering if he’d somehow caught her staring at his partner a little more than was probably normal. _Sharp as a knife_ , Sidra had said. No, she was being ridiculous. She nodded, smiling back and hurrying down to make drinks.

“She is very kind,” Thor said, sitting down and pulling his brother onto his lap.

“Yes, she is.”

Thor took out the circlet and placed it on Loki’s head. “Do you still have your earrings?” he asked.

“In my bag, yes. I was taking them to Jotunheim with me.” It all seemed so long ago. “Why?”

“I like them. Especially the one that makes you blue.” He grinned mischievously at Loki’s unimpressed expression.

“Whether or not you like it, I cannot go around Midgard in Jotun form. And how did you manage to bring _that_ with us?” Loki asked, knocking the crown off his head. It no longer glowed, but it still looked eerily beautiful.

“I must have kept it on me when I followed you to the Bifrost. I meant to take it back to my room...but things got complicated and I ended up bringing it with me. Is that a problem?”

“Yes, it is a problem. You know how much I dislike it. It is embarrassing.”

“It reminds me of you. I like it.”

“Even worse.”

“What?” Thor chuckled.

“It reminds you of me.”

“That would be because you are a beautiful, special little snowflake.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“Try ‘Oh Thor, you are so charming, to think of me so. How can I possibly make myself worthy of you?’” Thor said, trying to adopt a high, feminine voice and failing.

There was a loud crash and the Thunderer ended up balancing on his shoulders in a heap on the floor. Footsteps came hurrying up the stairs and there was a knock on the door.

“What was that? Are you both OK?” Jane looked worried, and Loki tried to hide the pile that was Thor from her field of vision.

“Oh, nothing, Thor just...tripped.” He looked sheepish. Jane looked suspicious, but shrugged and went back down the stairs.

“Oh, Thor, you do know how to get yourself into trouble. How can you possibly be such an oaf?” Loki sang, yanking his brother back to his feet and laughing. “You had the Lady Jane worried for your health. She’s quite taken with you. I fear I will not survive the night,” he sighed, pretending to faint only to be caught by strong arms and pulled into a protective hug.

“She is kind to lend us her room, but she will not lay a finger on you before getting through me first.”

“I was...only jok....ing, no need to...suffocate me...” Loki gasped.

“Tea’s ready!” Jane shouted up the stairs, and they hurried down to have their drinks. The three of them shared some small talk, about the weather, and physics, and the local town centre. Once they were finished with their drinks, the brothers offered to help with the sofa.

In the end they decided to take the single bed up into the attic study and replace it with the sofa bed. Thor carried it up the ladder with ease while Loki and Jane began to take the sofa out of the living room.

Once the Thunderer was finished he helped them with the stairs and deposited the bed in the spare room. Jane showed them how to set it up, and then moved some of the other furniture out the way so there was room. With the bed fully out and flush against the far wall, there was only a foot and a half of room on the other side, so the bedside table had to go at the end of the bed beside the wardrobe.

“Well, it’s certainly cosy. Are you sure you’ll be all right in here? We could probably move some stuff from the attic...” She didn’t really want to move her office, but it really was a squeeze with the double bed in there.

“It is perfectly adequate, thank you Lady Jane,” Thor said, smoothing over the duvet.

They ate dinner together, sharing a less awkward conversation about the new arrivals’ past. Loki was the better liar, so he did most of the talking. When it came to the discussion of siblings, both of them fell quiet. Jane worried she’d crossed a line and referred to something they didn’t speak of for some reason, but after a moment Thor spoke up.

“I am an only child. My mother had difficult conceiving, so I was born when she was too old to have another child,” he explained, and Loki was surprised at how convincing he sounded.

“I have two brothers, both of whom despise me, and I them. I was born outside of my father’s marriage, so his wife and her children looked on me as filth. I do not blame them.” Loki said. Under the table he grabbed Thor’s hand and squeezed it.

“Oh, OK. Sorry, I didn’t realise it was a sensitive subject, I just thought because we were talking about family and all...” Jane blushed.

“No, don’t be sorry. It is just hard, sometimes, for Thor to talk about his family. He did not want to leave them, but they had trouble accepting us...accepting me.” It was a bit of an understatement, but it would have to suffice.

Jane looked away, suddenly finding the opposite wall fascinating. “Right.”

 


	24. Epilogue: Part 2

On their ninth day at Jane’s house, Thor was walking home from college when he noticed the clouds clumping together. _A thunderstorm,_ he realised. A brilliant flash lit the sky, thunder rumbling straight afterwards, making Thor smile. Mjolnir was sitting in the back of his and Loki’s wardrobe at Jane’s, and he missed the feel of it in his hand, and the exhilarating rush he got from summoning lightning to his command.

A second flash turned the sky white again, this time nearly right behind him, and he decided he should probably get a move on, but something slowed him down. By the third flash, he stopped walking. He recognised that sound. _It can’t be..._

“Thor.”

He turned around, slowly, to see whether or not he was right in guessing the voice. He was.

“Odin. What brings you to Midgard?” His tone was guarded – he couldn’t decide whether to be happy or furious that they had been found.

“I have been looking for you with Heimdall’s help since the moment you vanished. He finally found you. I want to apologise, and make amends. I want you to come back to Asgard,” his father explained, his one eye pleading at Thor to accept.

“And if I accept, will Loki be allowed back with me? Will we be able to be together as we wish? We are quite comfortable here on Midgard – we have friends, and are beginning to set up lives here. It is asking a lot to throw that all away.”

“You did not hesitate to throw away your life on Asgard when you vanished,” Odin said coldly.

“I did what I had to,” Thor snarled.

“There has not been a day since you left that I have not regretted my decisions that drove you to do such a thing. I am not here to ask, because I do not feel it is my place, but to _beg_ you, Thor. Come home. Both of you, come home.”

“I will have to speak with Loki, father. But you should know that my decision is yes.” He hurried back to Jane’s house, fumbling for his keys in his excitement. Odin followed him. “Wait inside the living room. I suggest you use an invisibility spell, in case either Loki or Jane sees you before they expect to.” He ran up the stairs, two at a time, and then the ladder, bursting in on his brother and Jane as they carefully wired up a broken circuit board. Neither noticed his arrival, so he decided to go back down and make his father some coffee. He didn’t know if Odin liked it  
or not, but he was very like his father, so he reasoned they would share similar tastes in Midgardian drinks.

Odin sniffed the mug cautiously before taking a sip. Deciding it was to his tastes, he drank it in three huge gulps and handed it back to his son. Thor was struggling to contain his excitement, desperate to tell Loki and Jane, but at the same time terrified. He had always been too trusting – he’d forgiven his father in a heartbeat, but would Loki follow suit? Would he believe Odin was truly sorry?

He decided to try them again, rushing up the stairs a second time. This time when he went into the attic Jane saw him, and smiled.

“You’re home early, Thor. And you look like you’ve just run a marathon – what’s the big deal?” Loki looked up from his circuits and his face lit up. He held open an arm, and Thor rushed to hug him, picking him up and swinging him around.

Loki laughed. “What has brought all this on?” Thor kissed him, long and slow, earning a sigh from Jane, and a frustrated “Really guys, not appropriate. Some of us are trying to work here.” She smiled though. It really was adorable, and it made her happy to see two people who cared about each other so much.

“I have news – excellent news. They found us! They found us, Loki!”

Loki’s smile faded. “Who found us?” he asked, voice going cold.

“Heimdall! Father is here, right now, and he has come to apologise. He wants us to come home!” Thor was bouncing up and down like an excited puppy. Loki pushed out of his arms and gave him a hard stare.

“Odin is here?” he whispered, though it was more like a hiss.

“Yes, in the living room. He wants to see you and me to talk about our return. I apologise for disturbing you in your work, Lady Jane, but this is very important, as I am sure you realise. Could I borrow Loki for a while, whilst we sort things out with my father? If it goes well we will be able to go home and no longer bother you,” Thor grinned. Jane looked slightly shell-shocked, but nodded.

“Uh, sure, I’ll be up here if you need me.”

Thor seized his brother’s hand and they both hurtled down to the living room, where Odin was sitting, examining the TV from afar. He looked very out of place in the quaint, characterful room in full Asgardian armour, Gungnir by his side, resting on the arm of the sofa.

“Odin,” Loki said, his face set in its usual expressionless mask that he wore when dealing with the Allfather. He sat in the window, Thor moving to stand beside him.

“Loki. I’m sure Thor has explained why I am–”

“Yes, I know why you are here. I do not see why you bothered to disturb us though – we are quite happy now, are we not?” He looked up at Thor, who nodded vaguely, uncertain who he should be agreeing with.

“I have come to apologise. I was wrong to send you away. Perhaps I was wrong even to hide your heritage from you for as long as I did. If instead I had told you, and Laufey as well, things may have been easier. But it is done now. It is in the past, and I hope you will see that. Loki, both Laufey and I have made peace, and a real peace this time, not one secured by your being on Jotunheim. We both lost a son that day, and we saw it as a due reason to put aside our differences and make peace. Everyone on Asgard wants you back, both of you, especially your mother and I.”

“Everyone on Asgard? Your lies never do end, do they, Odin Allfather? No-one wanted me on Asgard before except Frigga and Thor, not even you. I was just a tool – be nice to me, and the golden prince of Asgard will show you extra favour. Help me when I’m hurt, and the Queen will owe you a great debt. Keep me from my true father and you will have all of Jotunheim on their knees before you. I cannot believe they want me back – they want Thor, and they know that he won’t return without me.”

“Yes, I will admit that at first, many saw you as a way of gaining favour with the Queen or your brother, and also with myself. But you never truly appreciate what you have until it is gone, and we now miss your talents, at magic and learning, and also in combat. You are an important part of Asgard, as much as any of us, and we would be honoured if you returned.” Odin sighed. He knew persuading Loki would be a fight, but he hoped he would win. He had to make Loki see the reality, not his darkened view of things – that all of Asgard mourned for the loss of both brothers, and Jotunheim too. Both realms were desperate to have them back.

“Loki, we have a chance to go home. Back to Asgard. To be where we belong at last, with nothing to worry about. Please,” Thor pleaded. Loki tugged on his hand, getting his brother to sit beside him. Thor wrapped an arm around Loki’s waist, both of them watching Odin’s expression intently to see his reaction to their intimacy.

“And, Odin Allfather, if I accept,” Loki began, his voice becoming smooth as it often did when he was beginning an argument or a threat. “What becomes of this?” he gestured to the arm around him, and the pair of entwined hands in Thor’s lap. “Even in Asgard you have shown that incest is deemed taboo. We have managed to disguise the fact we are brothers, though not by blood, on Midgard because it has been a fresh start. However everyone on Asgard knows who and what we are. How desperate will everyone be to have us back when they know of our relationship?”

Odin paused, thinking. He had wondered about this, but the chance to have his sons back had overwhelmed his sense of reason briefly. He put his elbows on his knees and took the approach Frigga had when explaining their departure to the Warriors Three and Sif.

“The only people it really matters to are your friends. Your mother explained to them straight after you departed, and none of them had any objections. What the rest of Asgard, and the rest of the realms think is not important any more. What matters is that you come back, and are happy. We will not hold your...choices...against you.” He cupped his hands over his nose and mouth, leaning forward. Loki realised it had taken a lot to say that, to go against everything Odin usually taught, which was that the people came first and were always the priority. He still wasn’t persuaded.

“Your mother and I knew you had trouble fitting in, Loki. While Thor went about making friends at every turn, you hid inside yourself and your books, until the only people you opened up to were him and your mother. At times you would speak to no-one, mostly after you had fallen out with your brother. You were close; too close perhaps, but we did not have the heart to separate you as we should have, because if you couldn’t speak with your brother you did not want to talk to anyone.

“We worried about Thor too – he relied heavily on you as you grew up to help him sort out his dreams, and also as someone to share everything with, because he couldn’t talk to his friends about everything. Especially about things like love.”

Thor bristled behind his brother. He didn’t like how easily his father had seen through him, even all those years ago, and he especially didn’t appreciate Odin talking about him like he wasn’t in the room.

Odin wasn’t finished though. He began again, “Both of you kept your public faces, mostly tolerant of each other at best, even though Thor insisted you were involved in everything he did, because that was how you saw other siblings acting towards one another. We knew though, that behind closed doors you got closer and closer, using each other like most people would their best friends – as confidants and advisors who could help them deal with problems the rest of the family were not supposed to know. We did not know what your problems were, but we knew you were getting dangerously close.

“Then Sif fell for Thor, and you decided to upset her by telling her Thor didn’t want her.”

Thor stared at his brother. “That was you?” he asked, visibly annoyed. Loki blushed and looked away.

“Both your mother and I wondered about your motives for that for a long time, fearing it was too late, but by your attitude we decided it was just a trick. So we let it die, with other problems to deal with, until everything got difficult as your brother practically waged war on Jotunheim. That was when we realised it was too late. So I suppose we saw it coming, and you can be safe in the knowledge that seeing as we did nothing about it the entire time, that we understand and accept your choices.” He looked up at his sons, watching for their reactions for this sudden admittance of knowing all their supposedly well-kept secrets. Slowly, Loki nodded.

The Allfather let out a strained laugh. “And, I suppose when it comes down to it, you _are_ adopted brothers only.”

There was silence for a while, and Jane, who had been sitting at the top of the ladder, trying to listen in without hearing the words and gather the thread of what was happening from the tones of voice, tensed. Thor had never said much about his family since their first conversation – it seemed there had been big issues concerning his choice in partner that meant it was difficult to talk about, which she could accept, but she’d really grown to care about both of them, and didn’t want to see either hurt.

Thor looked at his brother, a gentle face on his face, and put his forehead on Loki’s temple so he could murmur in his ear. “Please, brother. We can go _home_. Don’t you want that?”

Loki shifted uncomfortably in Thor’s arms. “I want...I don’t know what I want. I just want to be happy, and safe from people always watching, and _judging_...with their eyes, I can feel them. I–” he stopped, looking up at Odin for a moment. “What do you want, Odin? Answer me honestly, not it a way that is trying to persuade me to return, but your honest desire.”

“I want you both to return to Asgard, where you belong,” he replied, and Loki could see no lies in his eye.

“And you Thor? If it was anyone else asking.”

“You know what I want, Loki.”

The Liesmith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I-I want to believe you, Odin, I truly do. I want to believe that if I went back to Asgard right now, with you, that I would be welcomed with the same smiles and open arms as Thor will, and that Laufey will not demand me back, and that we will be able to stay together as lovers, accepted for who we are by all. But I see what you do not, and that is that people will say anything to get what they want most of the time. Once the initial delight at our return has died down, things will fall back into place again.” He watched as both his brother’s and the Allfather’s faces fell, but ploughed on through the worst part. The worst part was saying an absolute no, and then watching his brother fall apart as he decided who’s side he was truly on.

“I cannot go back to that – to all those hard looks of disapproval, all those people just _using_ me as a tool to get what they want. It’s not just them though, but something closer to home,” he paused, refusing to look at anything except the faded blue rug on the floor, and was oddly reminded of his own rug on Asgard. It made it all the harder to bear. “Sif. I never meant to upset her so much. It was just a trick, but she took it too far until she killed off something I knew could have happened. And she still blames me for it, and hates me for it, and even if I never left the palace, never saw any one of the other people who despise me because of my personality, or my position, or my heritage, I cannot keep Thor from his friends, and I cannot go back to facing her again. I-I am sorry, so sorry that I cannot resolve this how you would wish, but going back is not possible.” He looked up at his brother, the meaning clear in his eyes. “At least, not for me.”

“What do you mean, brother?” Thor asked, his blood running cold. He tightened his grip on Loki’s hand, moving to capture the other one as well, watching as his brother’s bright green eyes turned starry with sadness.

“I know you want to go back. I will not stop you if that is what you wish. I will be all right here with the Lady Jane, and my study of Physics will entertain me. You should go, and take your place as heir to the throne. You have so much to live for on Asgard, so much,” his voice cracked into a harsh whisper. “And it is not my place to stop you from living your life to its fullest.” He stood up, directing them to the door.

“No. No. Loki, no. I am not–”

“I will not take that as an answer, Thor. Go on, both of you. Go home.” He opened the door, herding them out onto the steps. Thor reached out a hand to him, but Loki pushed it away. Odin gripped Thor’s shoulder and looked at him.

“He has made his choice. It is time to leave.” He made towards the grassy area in which he’d arrived, expecting Thor to come with him, but instead the Thunderer stayed.

“He has made his choice, yes, but I have not made mine.” Odin stopped to see his son standing tall on the steps of Jane’s house, defiance set on his face. “Tell mother I miss her, and love her more than anything. But I choose Loki. I choose to stay. I will miss you too, father, but if I come with you I will be only a shadow of myself. If you want what is truly best for us, then you will accept that I choose Loki, that I will always choose Loki.”

The Allfather nodded. He had never felt as proud of his son, of both his sons, as he did in that moment. He watched as the younger one broke into a smile, and leapt into his brother’s arms to be swung around in circles punctuated by laughter and tears, before he was set down again. The two leant in close for a kiss, sweetened by tears that mingled on their lips. It made his heart burst with pride to see them so happy, and he smiled, moving back into the front garden for the last farewell.

“This is goodbye then,” Odin said, and he couldn’t hold back a tear as it escaped out his eye, wrinkled up with his smile. He extended his hand to Loki, who took it and gave it a shake before being pulled into a tight hug.

“Farewell, Odin Allfather. Thank you for your kindness, and forgiveness. You are an honourable father, and king,” Loki murmured, smiling at the old man as he turned to face Thor. The two shared a deep look before hugging farewell.

“Farewell, Loki Odinson. Look after him for me,” he said, eyes flicking towards Thor, who was visibly becoming more and more of a wreck. “Goodbye, Thor.”

“Goodbye, father.” Thor squeezed Loki’s hand tightly as he watched his father turn away.

Odin paused before he left the garden, suddenly remembering. He withdrew a small piece of parchment from his tunic and handed it to Loki.

“When Laufey and I made peace, he asked me to pass it on to you Loki. It is from someone called Angrboda?” He handed over the letter and Loki laughed.

“Yes, thank you. I shall read it later, though I have no understanding as to why she would want to send me a letter.”

“Well, I hope it makes more sense to you than it did to me. Farewell,” he turned away and walked towards the park. There was a thunderclap, and a flash that bounced off all the houses, and he was gone.

The pair of them turned back into the house, shutting the door after them. The sat down in the window seat, the room suddenly seeming empty with just the two of them in it. Thor pulled Loki onto his lap and began to play with his hair, calming himself down as he let the decisions sink in. Loki tore open the letter with his finger and unfolded it, peering at the spidery writing.

_Dear Loki,_

_I didn’t want to say much, only congratulations on such a stealthy escape. We didn’t notice you were gone until two days later. Laufey was a bit put out, but Helblindi and Býleistr are delighted. Now they just have each other to bully._

_Also, thanks for getting out of my hair._

_Angrboda_

Loki laughed, and Thor stopped his plaiting to look up for a moment, skimming the letter before smiling himself. Just then Jane entered, looking worried.

“Is everything OK? I didn’t hear much, but you guys sounded upset. Care to explain?”

Loki and Thor looked at each other and smiled. They would have to tell her everything. But not quite yet.

“Well, it is a long tale, and very complicated,” Loki began. “You will have to believe everything we say, and not ask any questions until the end. Understand?”

“Right,” Jane said, looking nervous. “I’ll go get some coffee.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy ending is cheesy, but yeah, it's finished. I'm just really slow at posting. Was it ok? I don't know. But there are deleted scenes, so tell me what you think of those, if you have time.


	25. Deleted Scenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The deleted scenes, in chronological order relating to the times they were written. A huge lump (perhaps 12%?) of the credit for the first scene goes to my dear sister, with whom I had great fun harassing Loki with a tiara.
> 
> The delay is because of exams ruining everything. Hence why nothing happened for the past forever. I shall be back in action after the 14th of June, maybe with more Thorki, but likely with other fandoms stuff too.

He'd had enough of his brother's pointless questions - the day had become longer than he'd intended and he really needed to get rid of Thor. He was going to have to play the honesty card. Picking up the circlet from where Thor had left it, he rotated it in his fingers several times before turning to face the Asgardian, brandishing his crown like a weapon.

"They have given me a tiara to show my royal status; is that not proof enough brother?" Loki cried, but Thor's look of disbelief at the outburst quickly morphed into one of confusion.

"Tiara?" he queried, and Loki mentally slapped himself.

"Circlet. I said circlet."

"You said tiara, brother."

"No, I did not. Tiaras are for girls."

Despite himself, Thor found his eyes running up and down Loki's figure, taking in the slender lines of his body, his layered skirt-like clothing and carefully curled tresses. He glanced back up at Loki's face when the sudden silence was interrupted by the loud sounds of protest his brother made.

"You _checked_?" Loki asked incredulously.

"Did not," Thor quickly denied.

"Yes you did!"

"Did not!"

" _Did!_ "

"Whether I looked or not does not change the fact you said tiara, brother," Thor said smoothly, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"IN THE NAME OF GUNGNIR I DID NOT SAY TIARA."

"Calm down Loki..."

"DO NOT TELL ME TO CALM DOWN YOU INSUFFERABLE OAF OF A BROTHER!"

*

"Hush, hush, Odin. They will be all right. They are together, they will be fine. It will be all right," Frigga said, a soothing hand rubbing up and down the Allfather's back. "They will be all right."

Odin straightened, his face setting again. "I want them back here right now! How _dare_ Thor defy me like that - both in bringing Loki here _and_ in leaving without my permission! Heimdall. Where _are_ they?"

"I told you, Allfather. I cannot see them until they land, and even then I will have to search all the realms. It will take time."

"Odin..." Frigga said, but not loud enough to get past her husband's raging.

"We do not _have_ time! We need to find them as soon as possible! We need to get Thor back. Think - where would they go? Jotunheim? Alfheim?"

"Odin..." she tried again.

"Not Jotunheim, that is where they just escaped from. Not Alfheim, because Thor does not like the food. Heimdall, do you have any idea where they might have been sent?" There was a roaring in Odin's head; he tried to use logic, but it was useless.

"I can only retrace their journey once they have landed. Even then, it will only tell me roughly where they are, not the exact planet or realm..."

"Odin. Stop." Frigga's voice cut through the conversation, getting the attention of both men. "You must think. It is useless trying to work out where they landed by logic, because they left before the Bifrost was ready. They could be anywhere. We need to wait, until they have landed, and then we can look for them properly."

"Frigga, you do not understand. We must find them _now_ , before it is too late. I have foreseen..."

"No. _You_ need to come with me, to the eating hall, and have some breakfast. I guarantee everything will seem better after that. Everything is doom and gloom and urgency if you have not had your morning Muesli fix."

Odin paused, staring at her. Heimdall raised an eyebrow, finding the exchange between husband and wife thoroughly amusing. He'd seen them bicker before, of course, priding himself on having seen most things in his lifetime, but this context was perhaps one of the funniest. Because it was true - Odin really was crankier unless he'd had his breakfast, and the thing that worked best to set him straight was Muesli.

"I-This is not just doom and gloom! Our _sons_ have just vanished to Valhalla knows where, and you want me to sit down and eat some stagnant milky mixture of oats and raisins? What kind of mother _are_ you?" Odin fumed, turning red right up to the ears, but the Watchman was unsure of whether it was from anger or embarrassment.

"I am a mother who is also the wife of a great king, and has been for many years. I know every subtle expression on his face, every action, every mood, every gesture he makes. I know when he is putting on a brave face for his kingdom, and when he is disciplining his children because it is the right thing to even though he is secretly proud of them. And I _know_ when he needs his breakfast, and that is right now." She set her hands on her hips and gave the Allfather a look that said 'don't-argue-with-me-wifey-knows-best'. But Odin wouldn't back down.

"If I have to follow them through space myself, then I will go. I will _not_ leave for breakfast only to mull thinks over whilst eating tasteless mush. This is far more important than food!"

"Well, maybe eating will give you a chance to think, and to work out where they might have gone. Hopefully they will have landed by then, and then Heimdall can find them. After all," Frigga drew herself up for a scholarly speech, one she'd practised well during her sons' younger years, because when Loki had decided he wouldn't eat raisins at about aged nine, Thor had stopped eating them too, and she had had to compose a suitable pro-raisin argument that was worthy of countering Loki's persuasive tongue. "Muesli is highly nutritious. It has many slow-burning carbohydrates, to give you energy, as well as sugars in the dried fruits to stimulate the mind and body in the short term. There are lots of vitamins, and fibre, which are vital to keep the body running properly. Milk provides calcium for healthy bones, and there is protein in the nuts for muscles and growth..."

"All _right_ , I understand the nutritional importance of Muesli in a balanced diet. I have heard you give this speech to Loki often enough. If it will make you be quiet and leave me alone, I will come with you for breakfast," Odin said, submitting. His stomach growled, as if to prove Frigga's point. "It seems the whole world is against me," he muttered, looking pointedly at his belly.

His favourite golden bowl was placed before him. He peered inside, frowning at the murky white gloop that sat in it, brown shapes of fruit and nuts floating just below the surface. He picked up the spoon and poked the suspicious mixture, bringing a small amount up to his lips. He swallowed it slowly, feeling it slide down his throat. Everything appeared suddenly brighter, and he dove into the bowl, ploughing in mouthful after mouthful. By the third bowl he was smiling and laughing with Frigga, the angst of the previous situation temporarily forgotten. Muesli was like a drug to Odin. No-one had ever really figured out why, but it instantly cheered him up, allowing him to see reason. At the first mouthful he appeared to hate it, but once that was over anyone would think he was eating at the finest feast in all the realms.

Frigga smiled, glad to see her husband happy again. He put his spoon down after the fifth helping, looking at her with mirth in his eyes. She looked straight back, watching the good cheer fade as he sobered.

"We will have to tell the court of this, I expect," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Yes, I expect we will. In time."

"Thor's friends will need to know as well. We will have to tell them today."

"Yes. We should do that now." She stood up and they walked together to their adjoined rooms. Passing a servant, Odin asked her to find the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Frigga hoped she'd managed to buy Heimdall some more time, because soon Odin would be restless again. What he hadn't realised in his distress was that because the Bifrost had been used unprepared, the signal that could trace the previous journey would have been disrupted, and therefore the Watchman would not have been able to locate Thor and Loki that way. Therefore the search would be a long and hard one, working methodically through everywhere in the nine realms, and that was of course presuming the pair could be seen.

They sat down on Frigga's bed, hands clasped together. For a while they pair were silent, in mourning for their losses, giving themselves space to become calm and to prepare for the upcoming explanation. There was the sound of voices in the corridor, as the four warriors approached. Odin looked up at his wife, with sincerity in his eyes.

"Frigga," he began, emphasising the name. "I really do hate almonds."

*

Sidra was curled up under the desk, trying her hardest not to fall asleep again. She cursed herself for having taken the early shift, considering no-one had turned up between two and six in the morning for at least six months. It was also cold, and even with the little heater on full blast and two microfiber blankets around her, she was losing the will to keep herself from curling up in of the upstairs beds and sleeping the shift away.

She checked her watch: ten past five. Just fifty more minutes, and then she could _sleep_. Everything had become sort of muted - sounds were more dull, colours faded and her eyelids got heavier and heavier. The loud ring of the bell as the door opened was like a gunshot to her ears, and she leapt up, only to bang her head on the underside of the desk. Emerging from her lair, she smoothed down her jumper and gingerly rubbed the back of her head with one hand, turning to see who was coming in at this time.

The couple were talking quietly to one another as they ambled toward the counter. The first one was a man, tall and blond with hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. He was dressed in a tunic and leggings, metal armour plating his wrists and shins. A brown belt sat around his waist, along with the arm of his companion. _She_ was a little shorter than him, but only by a few inches, which was, in Sidra's opinion, quite a feat for a woman. She had a jerkin on with a green linen shirt on underneath, a small leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was long and black, straight at the top but curling into loose ringlets at collar length, the front slicked back to give her a severe look. Sidra decided she was perhaps the most striking woman she'd ever seen - sharp cheekbones, a strong, straight nose and thick eyebrows.

She decided to approach them, plastering a smile to her face.

"Hi there, welcome to the Salvation Army. I've got to say, you caught me by surprise. It's not often we get customers at this kind of time." The blond man looked at her and smiled.

"Greetings, friend," he said, unwinding his partner's arm from his middle and instead just linking their fingers. "We have just arrived here, in England, and we need a place to stay. We are new to this realm however, and are unable to pay for any accommodation."

"Well, you came to the right place," she replied, returning to the table to rummage for the documents necessary. "But you caught us at a bad time. I'm afraid we've only got one room spare. With only one bed. But I've got extra duvets and pillows, so one of you could sleep on the sofa..." Sidra looked up first at the man, then the woman, searching for a reaction. She leant in to whisper something which made him smile.

"Any room will be more than adequate, thank you. We will work it out between us."

"I...OK..." Sidra said, not wanting to get involved in whatever they were talking about. Trying not to wonder at how deep the woman's voice was. "If you could just...sign these, to say who you are and that you're staying here. Health and Safety mainly."

She watched as the two of them worked together to fill in their details, muttering things to one another as they went. She tried to listen in, but their voices were too quiet for her to make out clearly without getting awkwardly close. The dark-haired woman handed her the completed forms a minute later, and she squinted at the spidery writing on the page.

"So...you're Mr. Thor Odinson?" she asked, directing the question at the man because of the two names it was the most likely. He nodded and smiled again, dizzyingly bright and unhealthily cheerful for twenty past five in the morning. "And you're Ms. Loki?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she bent down to examine the form closer. "Excuse me?" she hissed, and Sidra blushed.

"Ms. Loki. You didn't put a surname," she choked, aware that the dark head was resting uncomfortably close to her shoulder - she could smell a sweet fruity scent coming off the masses of black hair behind her. A slim white finger pointed to the top of the form, where the box labelled 'Mr.' had been crossed. Below it the 'male' box had been crossed. "O-oh..." she murmured, turning a darker shade of red. "Sorry, so sorry, I just thought...so you're _Mr._ Loki?"

"Yes, I am."

There was an awkward pause in which Sidra looked again at Loki, trying to gage whether he was a he, a he becoming a she, or unfortunately dressed. Loki stared right back at her, daring her to say something about his appearance, and Thor stood beside them, trying to figure out the purpose of their silent exchange.

"Right. So, we usually go by first-name terms here. I'm Sidra. I'll call you Thor and Loki - is that all right?"

"That is fine, thank you Lady Sidra," Thor said, kissing her hand. "We are deeply grateful for your hospitality, and owe you a great debt."

She blushed again at the gesture, turning away to lead them to the stairs. They followed her up to a narrow corridor, then to a door labelled '24'. She took out a key and unlocked it, ushering them inside.

"It's really not much, but it's the best we can do right now. I'll go get some duvets and pillows, if you want to make yourselves at home..." She rushed off in a little white-blonde whirlwind, leaving Thor and Loki to examine the space before them. It was definitely small, but a reasonable bedsit for one, with sofa, en-suite, desk and bed. Thor went over to sit on the small single, Loki following.

"It is certainly small," the Thunderer commented. Loki said nothing, so Thor looked at his brother and burst out laughing. His face was a mixture of anger, despair and confusion, and it had made his eyebrows sit in the most bizarre position that Thor couldn't contain himself.

" _What_?!" Loki cried, staring at Thor wide-eyed.

"Just, your face is a picture, brother," he chuckled.

"Wouldn't _your_ face be a picture if you had just been mistaken for a _woman_ by the first person on Midgard we've actually spoken to properly?" He cursed, pulling at his hair and looking around for something he could cut it with.

"I do not think you look like a woman," Thor commented, trying to still his brother's hands on the hair he loved.

"You _wouldn't_ ," Loki retorted. "And even if you did, you would never say it. You would be too terrified of the consequences," he said, straightening up so he could look down his nose at his brother with mock contempt.

"Oh?" Thor growled, knocking his brother over onto his back. "What consequences are these?"

Loki giggled and half-closed his eyes. "Well," he said smoothly, voice dropping low. "I guess you will never find out."

The door opened and they sprang apart to see Sidra carrying in a pile of bedding. She stopped when she saw their expressions and carefully set her load down on the floor. "Sorry, did I do something?"

Loki was tempted to stress the point that she _had_ , but a look from Thor silenced him as his brother went to pick up the bedding. He tried to set it out, but ended up getting most of it wrong, so Sidra moved round to help him.

"Come on, br-Loki, this is no way to treat a Lady," Thor chided. Loki slunk off the bed to help his brother with the sheets. It took several attempts, mostly because Thor refused to let Sidra do any of the work, but they ended up with one fully made single bed and one equally comfortable looking sofa arrangement.

Sidra accidentally let out a yawn, and checked her watch again. Twenty to six. "Um, if it's OK with you, I really need to go to sleep," she said, making for the door. "If you need anything, I'll be up at twelve, but someone should be downstairs in the shop by seven. It'll be locked up until then."

"Of course," Loki smiled. She nodded vaguely and shuffled off to her own room, shutting the door after her. "This is going surprisingly well, considering we know nearly nothing about Midgard and its customs, and have no money to pay for food or drink," he mused. "Who gets the bed then?"

Thor grinned. "As the elder brother, I feel it is only an appropriate symbol of my dominance that I get the bed. You may have the 'sofa', as the Lady Sidra calls it." Loki's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, but brother, I am the weaker one, who has only just begun to heal from great illness. Surely I should get the more comfortable bed, so I get plenty of rest and recover," he said, voice low and sly.

"Illness I seem to remember you brought upon yourself," Thor countered.

"Because I had to," Loki hissed. He didn't appreciate the reference to his time on Jotunheim, and knew Thor knew it.

"Hmmm..." Thor hummed, lying down on the freshly-made single. "It is rather _icy_ tonight. And there is only one spare blanket. I could not have my poor invalid brother getting cold in his already uncomfortable sofa-bed. Perhaps we should ask for another."

Loki's eyes lit up wickedly. " _Or,_ " he said, sidling up to lie beside his brother. "I could make use of the heater I brought with me." Knowing his brother's skin was always warm to the touch.

Thor suddenly turned serious. "There is not enough room." He looked very disappointed.

"What was it I said to the Lady Sidra earlier? We will work it out between us." He curled up, feeling Thor's hand run through his hair. "But I _will_ be cutting that off tomorrow."

*

It had been a while after Odin's visit, and everything had begun to settle back down to normal. Thor continued with his AVCE, passing with exceptional grades, although his teachers didn't fail to notice how his best essays seemed to change writing style in places - due to the combination of Jane and Loki's frequent contributions and Thor's discovery of the internet.

He'd had what could have been called a detention; it was more an assignment that had to be done at the college with constant surveillance by the teacher, to assess whether or not he was plagiarising or not. Of course, he knew the date of the assessment beforehand, and whilst Loki had refused to offer him any assistance, claiming it was for his own good, Thor succeeded in recruiting Jane to help him with his prep work.

It was the weekend after the test essay, and the three of them had gone out for a meal. Jane had tried to book a restaurant which was fairly quiet, knowing both brothers' aversions to people, because people asked questions they weren't really prepared to answer. It was still buzzing around in Jane's head all the time, about Asgard and Jotunheim and the Bifrost. She'd seen Mjolnir, so she knew it was true, but it was still hard to fathom. And of course she tried not to think too hard on the fact her housemates were brothers, or ex-brothers, because then everything got even more weird and confusing.

It was an Italian, and they ate surprisingly well for the low prices, so Jane made a note to come back there some other time. The only thing that ruined the evening was Darcy phoning halfway through, and Jane's mobile vibrated in her pocked so suddenly she spilt her drink in surprise. Loki took the call while she cleaned herself up, and was bombarded with half-thought-out babble until he put the phone on the table with a grimace. Jane raised her eyebrows, so Loki mouthed 'Darcy' across the table. She put the phone in her bag and left it there until it hung up by itself. After that everything went fine.

In the morning, Loki woke up to find his brother sitting up - unusual as the Liesmith normally surfaced first of the pair of them. Thor had one of his pensive expressions on, the one he usually wore when thinking about Asgard, and it made him look as old as he truly was, the magic of Idunn's apples wasted. Loki laced their fingers together and smiled at his brother, but Thor didn't notice. He gave the hand a squeeze, and was met with dull blue eyes.

"Oh, Thor," he sighed, sliding up close to rest his head on one broad shoulder. "Tell me?"

His brother's throat worked, so Loki patted his arm to let him know he didn't have to. Thor pulled him into his lap and idly ran his fingers through the gradually-lengthening hair. Loki dragged his physics book onto the bed and began to read the next chapter, knowing he'd be there for a while if Thor was calming himself down.

The Thunderer spent about fifteen minutes brooding over Asgard whilst petting Loki's hair before he had suitably composed himself for a new day. His hand stilled, and his brother twitched at the lack of tugging, so Thor started up again, and idea forming in his head. He'd caught Sif plaiting her hair out the corner of his eye many times, and also had been learning a few things about knots in his mechanics studies, so he decided to give it a try. Loki's hair was soft, the strands sliding over one another easily, so he had no concerns about tangling it. He started off with a few simple things - reef knot, half-hitch, granny knot. Soon that got boring, so he tried some plaits. It was difficult at first, because he had nothing to tie the ends with, and the movements were unfamiliar to his fingers. The first attempt resulted in a lumpy, one sided braid that stuck precariously out the left hand side of Loki's head.

Thor tried again several times until he succeeded in getting the strands even. He decided he actually quite liked Loki's hair like this, but then, maybe he just liked Loki's _hair_. He experimented with layering the plaits, eventually discovering French plaiting. It was hypnotic, in its way, the strands going over, round, under, through, over, round, under...Thor found it you braided one way, the plait stuck up like rope attached tightly to the back of the head; if you braided the other, it lay underneath the drawn-in sections and you could see all the detail.

Loki turned around to look at him just as he prepared for the next test. He'd managed to remove the laces from his trainers one handed, and had them by his hip ready to tie up the ends of the plaits. The Liesmith felt that Thor had probably calmed down enough by then, so he put down his physics in the hope of a conversation. Thor put on his best 'I'm-still-upset-now-go-back-to-your-reading-pleas e-brother' face, and Loki fell for it, brushing a kiss along his jaw before delving back into thermodynamics. Then Thor began his work.

The first one was easy - he roughly parted the hair down the middle and began to weave to top layers, working his way down until he reached the base of his brother's neck. He finished off the braid and tied it with one shoelace, pausing to admire his work. The second was a little harder, as sometimes part of the strand he wanted was already caught up. It was strangely satisfying, weaving the hair over and over until he reached the end, and Thor decided he'd found a new kind of therapy. Once he was done, he hugged Loki briefly as if to thank him for putting up with it, even though his brother was as of yet unaware of what had been done.

"I will return in a moment," Thor said, departing to go to the bathroom. He waited outside the door once he was done for a few minutes, until he heard the startled yelp, which was his cue to open the door.

"Thor Odinson, what have you _done_ to my _hair_?"

Thor giggled awkwardly. "I styled it. It was very relaxing. I hope you will let me do it again some time," he smiled, wrapping an arm around Loki in an attempt at appeasement. The smaller man shoved him away.

"You gave me _pigtails_! Do you have _any_ idea how humiliating this is? I grow my hair out for you; I let you play with it to calm yourself, and the end result is _this_?" Loki was seething, and Thor couldn't entirely tell if he was being sarcastic, or if the fury was genuine.

"I..." Thor paused, fearing a repeat of the conversation in Jotunheim, when he'd said he liked Loki's ringlets. "I thought it would suit you. And it was very entertaining."

"You- What? You thought it would...What, _exactly_ , compelled you to believe that such a hairstyle would suit me, in _any_ way?"

Thor didn't know quite how to respond to that.

 

 


End file.
